The Clockwork Call Box: A WhoLock and Hobbit Xover
by Queen-of-the-TARDIS
Summary: Doctor Who/ Sherlock/ Hobbit. A malfunction of the TARDIS leaves the Tenth Doctor, Rose, Sherlock, and John stranded and separated in Middle Earth. Rose in Rivendell, Sherlock and the TARDIS in Erebor, Ten with Thorin's company and John in the middle of nowhere. Now they must find each other, leading them on an adventure filled with danger and plot twists at every turn...
1. Prologue Pt1

The Clockwork Call Box

A WhoLock/Hobbit Xover

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A/N: So I really shouldn't post this because i have so many other fics. But I love writing and I just got into the Doctor Who fandom. I had to do this wonderful idea that came to my head. Please read and review. No flames.

-Luv

PS: FYI this contains the Ten/Rose ship.

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~Prologue~

It was cold, dark, and cloudy, in short, a dreary evening in London. The fire flickered slowly in 221B Baker Street. John Watson sat in his armchair reading a book. He finished the chapter and then peered over to his best friend, the detective, Sherlock Holmes. The tall, curly-haired brunette was sitting in his own chair, his hands steepled underneath his chin in his thinking position. He was staring intently in the fire. Just staring.

"Sherlock?" John questioned, wondering about his friend's peculiar behavior. Sherlock ignored him.

"Sherlock?" John said again.

"Can you hear it?" he asked.

"Hear what?" John questioned.

"The singing."

"Singing?"

"It's coming from the fire. It's so faint…so faint it's scarcely audible."

John wanted to laugh, but he didn't. He smiled and shook his head. "Sherlock it's getting late, you haven't had a case, you're imagining things. Your mind is probably pulling your leg. Here, I'll get you a cuppa—"

"My mind is too high-functioning and balanced to make hallucinations when it's not drugged. There is singing coming from the fireplace I swear it!" Sherlock retorted, slightly harsher than intended.

John gave him a slightly startled, hurt look, taken aback. He held his hands up, "Alright, fine, you win, believe there's singing from the fireplace if you want but it seems highly impossible. Anyway, I'm gonna go make some tea for us." He departed to the kitchen and Sherlock resumed staring and listening into the fireplace. The voice was indeed there but it was faint and far away. It was deep and eerie humming backed it up. The deep voice itself sounded creepy to him, but solemn all the same.

_"Far over the misty Mountains cold, _

_To dungeons deep and caverns old._

_We must away ere break of day,_

_To find our long, forgotten gold." _

_"What gold?"_ Sherlock thought, _"And I've never heard of the Misty Mountains." _Then the humming and voice seemed to grow a dynamic or two as the next bit began, sounding like more than one voice this time.

_"The pines were roaring,_

_O-o-o on the height,_

_The winds were moaning i-i-I in the night,_

_The fire was red, it flaming spread,_

_The trees like torches blazed with light." _

Suddenly the fire seemed to grow larger and redder before his eyes, and he was drawn to it. Suddenly, images began to flicker in the flames. And this time the sounds were loud. Echoing screams filled his mind as he saw a city burning, and people running, and a large shadow in the sky, then he saw a mountain and whatever it was crashed through the door. He heard more screams, and he saw a room full of more treasures he could ever imagine in one place. He saw men this time, with long hair and beards running and herding others to safety. Another picture flashed and an older man, decked out in armor and jewels fell on his stomach and something fell from his hands and was buried in the treasure. Sherlock heard a single word, a pained cry of, "NOOOOOOOOOO!" A large shape appeared from the piles of gold, and started towards the man, only until another one, younger and dark haired, grabbed him and pulled him away. Then he saw it…the creature. It was huge and reptilian…a dragon. Its eyes glared at him, then it roared, and started to get closer to Sherlock, or Sherlock was being drawn to it as he leaned toward the fire, his face filled with full on fear, and he couldn't stop. Closer, closer, Sherlock felt sweat rising and the heat of the fire getting closer, and then a haunting voice that sounded so much like his own but darker and more evil filled his head, "I am…Death." Then the creature began to laugh, and the noise started to fill up the room. Sherlock felt himself being engulfed in heat, the smell of the fire filling his nose and burning his throat, only until something heavy smacked into him and he was thrown away from the fire and his body hit the wall and he was knocked out cold.

"What the hell!" John exclaimed. A loud crash followed by two thumps from the living room caused John to splash hot water onto his jumper sleeve as he dropped it as per being startled by the noise. He ran into the room and stopped, his mouth agape. An old fashioned blue call box had crashed in through the window, and was sitting in the middle of the room, the armchairs, Sherlock's music stand, and papers from the desk were thrown aside, and Sherlock was lying unconscious in a heap against the wall. He could have cared less about the blue box in the middle of the room as he ran to Sherlock's side, checking frantically for blood or ijuries. Nothing, just a fair sized bump on his head. "Sherlock." He patted his shoulder, "Sherlock?" No response. "Sherlock!" John loudened his voice. Still nothing. He open-hand patted Sherlock's shoulders again. No response. He turned him on his back and pressed his ear against his chest, his heart was beating and he was breathing. "Sherlock, are you okay?" No response. Sherlock was unconscious. Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice sounded from behind him.

"That is the last time I let you drive, Rose." Said a very unique male voice.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't too bad." Replied an English accented female voice, "It was fun! Let's see where I landed us."

Then there was a click and a creak. John turned as two people stepped out of the blue box. One a young man, tall, with slightly shaggy, unkempt brown hair, and slight sideburns and brown eyes, wearing a brown pinstripe suit and a tan trench coat, the other, a young woman, with shoulder length, straight blonde hair, dressed casually.

"Oh…dear." The girl called Rose said.

"You just crashed us into someone's living room!" replied the male.

"Yeah okay, next time you'll drive." She said.

"Yeah."

"Do you think they'll notice?" asked Rose.

"Is that a real question? We just shattered their window, of course they're gonna notice."

"I guess we should find them and tell them." Rose said, hanging her head.

Sherlock groaned rather loudly, causing the unique pair from the box to jump.

"Ahh!" the young man noticed John and approached him with the girl, rose in tow. "Hello!" there was a cheery smile on his face.

John stood up. He was annoyed, one, because there was a huge hole in their window and their living room was a mess, two, his best friend was out cold, and three, this man was the same height as Sherlock, so John was short compared to him.

"I'm the Doctor, and this is Rose Tyler, my companion." He indicated the girl, "And we'd like to formally apologize for crashing our TARDIS into your window." Awkward silence.

"TARDIS?" John questioned.

"Time and Relative Dimensions in Space. That's the name for my ship." He pointed at the box.

"The blue call box is your ship?" John questioned.

"The TARDIS, she's called a TARDIS." The Doctor said.

"Right, okay." John replied, "Sorry…you said you were a Doctor? Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor." replied the Scott.

Then the girl, Rose, gasped, "Oh dear! That's what that big thump was!" she was looking down at Sherlock. "I am so sorry! Is your friend gonna be okay?"

"He'll be fine, He's just out cold and there's a bump on his head."

"Anything we can do?" asked the Doctor.

"You can help me carry him to the couch."

"Okay." They went toward Sherlock.

"I've got his arms." John said.

"I'll get his legs."

"I'll get some ice for his head." Rose scrambled off and the doctor smiled after her.

John and the Doctor lifted Sherlock and carried him to the couch, then they gently laid him down as Rose came back with the ice. John lifted Sherlock's head and laid the ice pack under it, then laid it back down. He examined the head a bit more.

"No concussion. That's good." John observed, "He'll come 'round soon. Oh, I'm Doctor John Watson, by the way." He said, then he walked into the kitchen to get a glass of water for Sherlock and finished the tea. When came back out into the living room, he found that everything was cleaned up, even the glass was swept into a corner and the TARDIS was gone, but Rose was not. She was seated next to the unconscious Sherlock, on the arm of the couch, brushing his curls with her fingers and gazing down at him.

John cleared his throat loudly.

Rose jumped and got off the couch, blushing. "Sorry." She said, "He's just so handsome. I mean uhh..I..I didn't mean to…sorry. I should umm—"

"It's fine. A lot of women think he is. Anyway, where's the Doctor?"

"He's just gone to re-park the TARDIS. He'll be back soon." There was an awkward silence as John set the glass of water on the side table. Then he went back into the kitchen and brought out the mugs, and offered one to Rose.

"Thanks." She smiled and took it and sat in Sherlock's chair and began to sip it.

"So who exactly are you?" John asked, sitting on his own chair across from her. "You and the Doctor?"

"We just travel 'round in the TARDIS. We go to different times and universes and things. It's actually pretty fun."

"Just you and the Doctor?"

"Yeah. And what about you two?"

"We solve crimes."

"Detectives?"

"Sherlock is. I'm a retired army doctor, in case you were curious."

"Right, of course." She said, "So are you two umm…" she turned a bit red.

"Are we what?"

"Together?"

"Why does everyone think that?" John said to himself, "Uhh, no, he's my best friend." He answered.

"Oh." Rose chuckled to herself and smiled, "Right, of course."

Then a groan and a frustrated voice cut in. "What the hell? Where am I? JOHN!?" the now wide awake Sherlock started to look around.

"It's okay Sherlock, I'm right here. We're at home. You okay?"

"Fine thanks…is that a client?" he noticed Rose.

"No. She and her friend crash landed into our window."

"That explains the pile of glass in the corner." Sherlock answered.

Suddenly, the door clicked open and the Doctor reappeared. "Okay. I'm back. Rose we can go." Sherlock sat up, "Who the hell are you?" he demanded.

"I'm the Doctor, that's Rose Tyler. Hello." He smiled, "Anyway, we best be off. C'mon Rose." He took her by the hand and began to fast walk out the door.

"Okay. Thank you for the tea Dr. Watson." She called.

"Wait, wait, hold on a moment!" Sherlock exclaimed. They stopped in the doorway.

"Where are you going?" Sherlock asked.

"You're interested?" John chuckled, "That's not like you."

"I've been stuck in this flat for three days, I'm going insane." Sherlock said.

"We were just gonna go back to the TARDIS." The Doctor said.

"The what?"

"Time and Relative Dimensions in Space." John said, "It's a ship/ time machine thing."

"Brilliant!" Sherlock exclaimed, "Can we come?"

The Doctor shrugged, "Sure, I don't see why not."

John gave Sherlock a questioning look. "Sherlock I don't know if we…" but Sherlock had already grabbed his coat and scarf and was out the door. John let out a flustered groan as he grabbed his own coat, and Sherlock's water and ice pack and headed out the door.


	2. Prologue Pt2

~Prologue Pt.2~

"That's the TARDIS?" Sherlock was not impressed with the sight of the blue call box.

"It's a disguise. The real ship's inside." said the Doctor. He unlocked the TARDIS and walked in, Rose followed, and then John and Sherlock after.

"This is fantastic." John said. It had a sci-fi aura about it to him, "It's bigger on the inside." He added.

"Classic Time lord science." said the Doctor.

"Time lord?" questioned John.

"Yes. I'm an alien, from a different planet, and I protect planet Earth."

"Are there any other time lords?" John asked.

The Doctor's smile faded. "They're all dead. A war destroyed my home. I'm the only one left." He hung his head and Rose put her arm around his shoulder and rubbed it.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't…" John began.

"No, no, it's fine." said the Doctor, "It's just a touchy subject. Anyway," he changed the subject, "Where do you lot wanna go?"

"Where can we go?" Sherlock asked.

"Anywhere. Your call." He said.

"Medieval times?" suggested Rose.

"Sure. Why not." John agreed.

"As long as it's not boring." Sherlokc added.

"It won't be, trust me. Well, off we go." The Doctor began to start it up; when he did it made a loud noise that startled John.

"What's that?" Sherlock asked.

"The TARDIS." said the Doctor.

Twenty minutes later…

"Shouldn't we be there by now, Doctor?" asked Rose.

"Yes we should, I don't know what's wrong with her." He patted the TARDIS's wall. Suddenly, John and Sherlock's voices cut into their conversation.

"Sherlock, you have to put this on your head or your swollen bruise is never gonna go down." John was scolding Sherlock, who was sitting against the wall, and they were in a debate.

John pressed the ice to his head and Sherlock shoved it away. "It's cold!" he whined.

"Please Sherlock?"

"You already got me to drink all my water. Isn't that good enough?"

"Water can't exactly do much. Please put this on your head." John coaxed.

"No." Sherlock crossed his arms and tossed his hair. John rubbed his head and cursed under his breath.

"Sherlock don't make me do this the hard way."

"Try me." Sherlock said. John stood up and began to walk away.

"That's it then?" Sherlock stared after John. The doctor ignored him. Sherlock shrugged and began to pace again, only to feel a weight suddenly leap onto his back and knock him down.

"Oomph!" Sherlock exclaimed as he hit the hard floor of the TARDIS.

"You are gonna ice that bump on your head right now." John said, proceeding to sit on the detective, attempting to pin Sherlock's arms as the younger man flailed and tried to get away.

"Hold still, Sherlock, I'm trying to help you!" John growled.

"No! No! I don't want the ice on my head, I'm fine! John! John! John, stop! Doctor, Rose, he's abusing me!"

Meanwhile, said Doctor and his companion were laughing hysterically at them.

Then John laid on top of Sherlock and managed to tie his hands behind his back with his scarf, then pressed the ice to the back of his head. "There you are, Sherlock, see, it's not too bad."

"It's cold." Sherlock pouted.

"It's not so bad. You'll get used to it. And it's the doctor's orders anyway."

"Pbbbt!" Sherlock stuck his tongue out immaturely at the older man.

"God, you must've worn your parents and brother out." John commented as Sherlock finally held still. "See, there you go." John said as Sherlock laid flat on his back on the floor of the TARDIS using the ice pack as a sort of pillow.

"Is this how you two always get on?" Asked Rose.

"Only when it has to do with Sherlock' s health." John replied, "I'm his doctor and I have to force him to take care of himself."

Rose chuckled.

Suddenly, the TARDIS jerked violently and everyone was thrown forward.

"Doctor, what was that?" asked Rose.

"She's misbehaving again." The Doctor said. The TARDIS jerked again and began to smoke and the lights flicker. They coughed. The machine spun wildely, everyone screaming as the Doctor tried to get it under control. A red alert alarm went off and the lights began to flicker red as the TARDIS spun and flew faster, so fast, the world seemed a blur.

"Hold on!" Exclaimed the Doctor, "I can't control her now." The Doctor grabbed Rose and held onto her for dear life, pressing them against the wall and Sherlock and John clutched it as well.

"We're going in for a crash landing!" The Doctor said. Suddenly the TARDIS began to move even faster and the pressure caused the door to fly open revealing a mass of colors as a large portal was seen. The doctor instantly grabbed the walls and Rose continued to hold onto him.

"Whatever you do, don't let go!" Ordered the Doctor. "That portal will take you to who-knows-where and we may never find you again." Everyone nodded. "Look out, we're going in!" Yelled the Doctor. And they were sucked into the portal. Everyone screamed, and the world became a mass of hazey colors.

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**A/N: Hee, hee, sorry about the little cliff-hanger there, but don't worry, I'll write the next bit soon. FYI, reviews might get you chapters faster. See you soon. **

**-Luv**


	3. Chapter 1

-Chapter 1~

ROSE

Rose blinked open her eyes open to bright light and unfamiliar surroundings. Where was she? More importantly, where was the Doctor, John, Sherlock, and the TARDIS? Had they been separated after all? Were the others okay? Thoughts spun in her head as she tried to decipher where she was. Looking around, she discovered she was lying a large, very comfortable feather bed in the middle of a room, a large room at that. Huge windows covered one wall, and sunlight streamed in. Looking up, she saw high ceilings constructed of some good smelling wood lined with gold. This wasn't a hospital, it didn't look like it. The blonde also discovered she was wearing a white silken night dress with draping sleeves, reminding her of medieval times. Her head hurt and her body was sore and all she wanted to do was roll back over and fall asleep. She was going to until she heard light footsteps approach her bedside. She sat up an turned her head. Before her stood a tall form with a fair face and high cheekbones. They had large brown eyes and long, straight, raven hair that came down to just below the chest. He, yes he, she decided, because of the facial features and the flat chest, was clothed in purple robes that looked like something a medieval or fantasy person would wear. So she had gone to medieval times then. What drew the most interest to her though, was the young man's pointed ears. She recognized his kind but she couldn't remember exactly from where.

"My Lady, you are awake." He said, "How are you feeling?"

"Fine. A little tired."

"My Lord Elrond found you outside our gate. You were unconscious and scraped up. A girl in strange clothes just lying there, out in the open. We brought you in, cleaned you up and tended your wounds. I'm glad you are okay."

"Umm, thanks, I guess. Did you find anyone else, three men, perhaps, or a big blue box?"

"No, we didn't, I'm sorry, my lady. It was just you, are you lost?"

"I guess I am. I've lost my three companions."

"They'll turn up eventually, I'm sure." Said the strange man, "where are you from?"

"Nowhere really, I was just traveling with my three companions. Something happened with our ship and I woke up here. I have no idea where they are." She hung her head. Then jerked it up, "Who are you anyway?"

"I am Lindir."

"Are you alien?"

"No. I am an elf."

Elf? That's right! One of those tall, magical people from those books I read a long time ago. Rose remembered.

"Umm, this may sound strange, but where am I? And what's the date...and the planet?"

"You are in Rivendell, my lady, the date is TA 2941 in the middle of June."

Well that was foreign.

"Sorry, TA?"

"Third Age." Lindir explained, "The third age of Middle Earth."

She was in the time of "Lord of the Rings." How? Middle Earth was a fantasy land created by J.R.R. Tolkien, it wasn't even real. So how could the portal have brought them here? She would ask the Doctor ...if she ever saw him again. She shook away that thought. They really had gone far, far back, and apparently Middle Earth was a real place.

"My Lady are you okay?" Asked Lindir, "You look pale."

"I'm fine, just a bit frazzled. I'll be alright though."

"Okay...Oh, dear, pardon my manners, I didn't ask your name. What is it?"

She tried to remember the proper Middle Earth answer for that..."Rose Tyler, Daughter of Jackie and Peter Tyler. But call me Rose."

"Pleasure to meet you, Rose. Would you like a tour of Rivendell?"

"Yes, that'd be lovely." Rose replied.

"Okay. I'll let you get dressed and i'll be back in a moment." Lindir said.

"Get dressed?"

"Why yes. There's a wardrobe on the right wall. You can chose any dress you want."

"Thanks." Rose smiled.

"Of course. Its our pleasure." Then Lindir dipped his head and left the room.

Rose laid in bed a few more moments before getting up and going to the large, oak wood wardrobe. She opened it and wanted to gasp in awe, there were so many dresses! She started to go through them to find one to wear. In the end, it was either a pea green one or a bergundy colored one, she decided on the latter. It was made of a light velvet. It had gold laces on the bodice's front, and gold along the hem and inside the draping sleeves that came down to the crook of her arms. Rose slipped into the dress, which was very comfortable, and tied her hair up in a fancy bun. She then slipped into some simple shoes before heading out her door.

Lindir was waiting at the end on a back wall in front of a huge, very detailed painting. The painting was a picture of a male and female elf. One had beautiful, long golden hair, the female, in a light orange dress with a flower veil around her head. She was sitting on a horse, leaning over to kiss the other elf, the dark haired male, decked out in full armor. Behind them was a beautiful green meadow/garden and a creek.

"What a beautiful painting." Said Rose.

"Why yes. It is very precious to Lord Elrond. It depicts the meeting of Elrond and his wife, Celebrian."

"He has a wife?"

"Had. She sailed to the undying lands with some of her kin after she was rescued. You see, she was taken prisoner and wounded by orcs, but their two sons found her. Elrond healed her wounds the best he could, but she was scarred both physically and mentally, so she chose to go to the Undying Lands where she would be happy." Lindir explained.

"Thats so sad." Rose said.

"Theyll meet again though, when Lord Elrond's time comes to an end, he will sail there and join her."

"Thats good." She said.

"Yes, it is." Lindir added. "Now-"

Suddenly an Elvish horn rang out through the halls.

"The bell, it is time for the afternoon meal." Said Lindir. He held out an elbow, "Come, my Lady Rose. You are always welcomed to eat with us." Rose smiled and turned pink before she took his elbow and he led her through the halls.

THE DOCTOR

"He's waking up, Fee, look!"

"I told you he wasn't dead, Kee."

The first thing he heard were two unfamiliar voices. Then he felt his scraped and bruised body, that uncomfortable pain, but his first thought; Rose. Where was Rose? He groaned and lolled his head a bit.

"Are you okay?" Asked the same quirky voice he had first heard.

"Rose?" He mumbled, slurring due to his half conscious state. He blinked open his eyes, and before him were the faces of two young men. The youngerer of the two had long black hair and not much of a beard, it was more of a scruff, and big chocolate brown eyes, the other was blonde, with a fuller beard and blue eyes. Both of them were dressed in furs and tunics, so he assumed it to be medieval times.

"What do you want a rose for?" The quirky voice belonged to the dark haired one.

"Not a Rose," he said, his voice growing stronger from the quiet, weak one it had been when he had first woken up, "The Rose." He corrected, "She's my friend, have you seen here? She's young, average height for a human girl, she has blonde hair and she would be dressed strange."

"No, no Rose here," said the blond, "We haven't seen any women for a while."

The Doctor frowned and grew a bit nervous, he hoped she was okay, and he hoped John and Sherlock were alright too.

"What about two men? One would be tall, in dark clothes, with short, curly black hair, and the other would be smaller with very short blond hair, and both would be dressed strangely as well."

Both of them shook their heads.

"Nope, doesn't ring a bell." Said the dark haired one.

Awkward silence, "Okay,"said the Doctor, "This is gonna sound strange but what year, day and time is it?"

"TA 2941." Said the dark haired man.

"And it is the middle of June." Added the blond.

"Near Durin' s Day." Finished the brunette.

"TA? TA?" The Doctor repeated under his breath, "TA...Durin's Day, why does that ring a...oh, yes...is this Middle Earth?" He asked, remembering it from the books Rose had shown him.

The two men gave him a funny look, exchanged glances, and chuckled.

"Well where else would it be?" Commented the brunette.

"Right, of course. Well," the Doctor got to his feat, dusted himself off and started to head off, and when he stood up, was surprised to find the two men were shorter than him by a good deal and not men at all, they were dwarves, "Dwarves, of course. Well, I'll be on my way-" the blond drew his sword and held the Doctor at sword point. The Doctor froze at the blade and then gave the blond a puzzled look. "What are you doing?"

"We're on patrol." He said, "You are trespassing near our camp, we don't know who you are or how much of a threat you are, so we have to take you to the rest of our company for questioning." He explained, with a normal tone of voice, and the friendliness still sparkling in his eyes. "It's our company's way of protection."

"So I'm your prisoner then?" The Doctor snipped, he had no time for this.

"Pretty much." Answered the dwarf, "Kili, go tell Uncle and then others we found someone."

The brunette nodded and ran off.

"Who are you, anyway?" Asked the blonde.

"I'm the Doctor, and you?"

"Fili."

"You're names rhyme? So you're brothers then."

"Yes. Kili is my brother."

"And your uncle, who is he?" Some things started to piece together as the Doctor asked these questions.

"You'll know him when you see him."

"No I don't think so. See, I'm not from this world, I'm very far from home...Well I was. One could say...another world."

"I don't know if that's possible, but maybe. Well, come on then." He felt a sword tip on his back as he was given directions and led on.

-xXx-

Fili led him through the trees until he found himself walking through some thick umbrage into a clearing, and when he appeared, he heard a voice bark orders.

"Take up arms!" At once, the Doctor found himself in the middle of a circle of medieval weapons all pointed at him. He held up his hands in surrender. Looking around, he saw several dwarves, each with different beard and hair styles in an array colours, with menacing eyes and pointed weapons all around him, nothing like Fili and Kili had been.

They were all a good deal shorter than him, but no less threatening. One stepped forward, he was one of the tallest, decked out in armour, with long, curly black hair, streaked with grey and adorning some braids, he had full facial hair, but not really a beard, and his eyes were blue shards of ice.

He approached the Doctor, standing tall and unfrightened. He stopped directly in front of the Doctor and pointed his sword, tall enough to get it to nearly touch the Doctor's neck.

"My nephews tell me they found you unconscious near our camp, decidedly too close." He said.

"Are you their leader then? I mean leader of this lovely group of people?"

"I am, and I will be asking the questions, mind you. So, who are you? Who sent you to find us? And what is your purpose? No lies."

"If you must know, I am the Doctor." He began, "I don't know any of you, I was not looking for you and I was not sent by any one to find you. I simply woke up in the middle of nowhere, with two young blokes standing over me who took me prisoner after my ship malfunctioned and I was separated from my companions. I don't know where they are, I don't know where my ship is, I don't know if my friends are safe and all I want to do is find them." He explained, his voice betraying worry and annoyance, "I swear I don't mean any harm."

The dwarf studied him a moment before putting away his blade, and the rest of the company followed, "Very well. If you lost your friends you can come with us to look for them. But that doesn't mean we trust you just because you are given a place with our company. One untrustworthy thing you do, you're out. Understood?"

"Yes...uhh..."

"Thorin Oakenshield." He turned and walked away, but everyone else stood stunned. Then Thorin turned back around,

"Just in case you think of getting up to no good, I am leaving Gloin in charge of you." A dwarf with long red hair and a big red beard stepped forward, "And Gandalf will keep an eye on you too. Move out!" Thorin's voice commanded. At once all the dwarves, save Gloin, moved out.

"Gloin at your service." He said.

"Umm...the Doctor, at yours."

"C'mon then, we must not keep 'em waitin' for us." Gloin headed off with the Doctor in tow.


	4. Chapter 2

~CHAPTER 2~

**A/N: As you read I recommend listening to this:**

** watch?v=ME5urFBf0kk, the full 27 verse Song of the Misty Mountains **

* * *

SHERLOCK

Thoughtless. Sore. Absolutely silent. Too silent. Dark. Cold temperature. Then his green eyes opened and he was staring at a ceiling with a gold color and many little domes about it. Then he remembered. He was inside the TARDIS. Inside a dark, silent TARDIS. He deduced that he was alone. And for once he felt it. Desperately he began to call the names: "John? Rose? Doctor?" Over and over again, only to have his voice echo through the emptiness. For once he felt it...a feeling of gloomy loneliness, and decided he did not like it. It was like the world was empty, even though it wasn't. He scanned his eyes about, hoping maybe to catch a glimpse of them, when his eyes met the door. They could be outside. So, he approached it and slowly opened one of the doors, peering out, his eyes meeting a huge, magnificent hallway, completely empty . It was dark, and old, and dusty, and completely silent. It looked abandoned, like no one had been there for several years, and it had an eerie feeling to it. What struck him with most awe, was the humongous tapestry on the wall. The hall, the main hall, he decided it was, was dark, but his eyes had long since adjusted to it so he could see. He looked up again at the tapestry. It was dusty, but he could still see the design. He cautiously stepped out, his feet hitting cold, hard tiles. He closed the door of the TARDIS, decidedly too hard, and it slammed shut, the noise ringing loudly through the empty hall, nearly startling him. He started to walk forward to the tapestry, the tapping of his feet echoing loudly as he made his way. He looked up at the old tapestry, seeing that runes, very ancient runes, were etched into it. He couldn't read them, but they reminded him of old Norse. Suddenly though, before his eyes the runes started to change form into plain English, and it absolutely terrified him, because, not only did the runes translate, they translated into words he recognized, well some words he knew

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old,

We must away, ere break of day,

To seek our pale enchanted gold.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,

While hammers fell like ringing bells,

In places deep, where dark things sleep,

In hollow halls beneath the fells.

For ancient king and elvish lord

There many a gleaming golden hoard

They shaped and wrought, and light they caught,

To hide in gems on hilt of sword.

On silver necklaces they strung

The flowering stars, on crowns they hung

The dragon-fire, on twisted wire

They meshed the light of moon and sun.

Far over the Misty Mountains cold,

To dungeons deep and caverns old,

We must away, ere break of day,

To claim our long-forgotten gold.

Goblets they carved there for themselves,

And harps of gold, where no man delves

There lay they long, and many a song

Was sung unheard by men or elves.

The pines were roaring on the heights,

The wind was moaning in the night,

The fire was red, it flaming spread,

The trees like torches blazed with light.

The bells were ringing in the dale,

And men looked up with faces pale.

The dragon's ire, more fierce than fire,

Laid low their towers and houses frail.

The mountain smoked beneath the moon.

The dwarves, they heard the tramp of doom.

They fled the hall to dying fall

Beneath his feet, beneath the moon...

Every line he read, his eyes grew wider and wider, as images depicted from the song, and images similar to the ones he'd seen in the fire began to cross his mind...Dragon fire...screams...people running...a city being destroyed. Then that...that, the beast, the horrible beast...the Dragon.

"Stop!" He scolded himself, "Get your mind under control!" But no matter what, his mind didn't stop, and he found himself continuing to read the song.

Far over the Misty Mountains grim,

To dungeons deep and caverns dim,

We must away, ere break of day,

To win our harps and gold from him!

The wind was on the withered heath,

But in the forest stirred no leaf:

There shadows lay be night or day,

And dark things silent crept beneath.

The wind came down from mountains cold,

And like a tide it roared and rolled.

The branches groaned, the forest moaned,

And leaves were laid upon the mould.

The wind went on from West to East;

All movement in the forest ceased.

But shrill and harsh across the marsh,

Its whistling voices were released.

The grasses hissed, their tassels bent,

The reeds were rattling-on it went.

O'er shaken pool under heavens cool,

Where racing clouds were torn and rent.

It passed the Lonely Mountain bare,

And swept above the dragon's lair:

There black and dark lay boulders stark,

And flying smoke was in the air.

It left the world and took its flight

Over the wide seas of the night.

The moon set sale upon the gale,

And stars were fanned to leaping light.

Under the Mountain dark and tall,

The King has come unto his hall!

His foe is dead, the Worm of Dread,

And ever so his foes shall fall!

The sword is sharp, the spear is long,

The arrow swift, the Gate is strong.

The heart is bold that looks on gold;

The dwarves no more shall suffer wrong.

The dwarves of yore made mighty spells,

While hammers fell like ringing bells

In places deep, where dark things sleep,

In hollow halls beneath the fells.

On silver necklaces they strung

The light of stars, on crowns they hung

The dragon-fire, from twisted wire

The melody of harps they wrung.

The mountain throne once more is freed!

O! Wandering folk, the summons heed!

Come haste! Come haste! Across the waste!

The king of freind and kin has need.

Now call we over the mountains cold,

'Come back unto the caverns old!'

Here at the gates the king awaits,

His hands are rich with gems and gold.

The king has come unto his hall

Under the Mountain dark and tall.

The Wyrm of Dread is slain and dead,

And ever so our foes shall fall!

Farewell we call to hearth and hall!

Though wind may blow and rain may fall,

We must away, ere break of day

Far over the wood and mountain tall.

To Rivendell, where Elves yet dwell

In glades beneath the misty fell.

Through moor and waste we ride in haste,

And whither then we cannot tell.

With foes ahead, behind us dread,

Beneath the sky shall be our bed,

Until at last our toil be passed,

Our journey done, our errand sped.

We must away! We must away!

We ride before the break of day.

That was the end. No more lyrics. He didn't understand. He didn't know why the words made him so full of doubt. He knew the song depicted the fall of some great city or civilization. But what was the worm of dread? And what was this about Dragon fire? And dwarves? That was the stuff of myth and fantasy. But he knew this place was real, he was standing in it...and judging by the architecture, he guessed he was very far in the past. And the song...was it depicting real events? Him being Sherlock Holmes, he had to find out. So he decided to investigate the halls. Little did he know what lay ahead...here's a hint; then worm of dread. Dragon fire.

-xXx-

Sherlock stepped into another hall, much darker than the last, and much more dusty and old, and began to walk through it, only to step on something, he looked down, it was an old bone. He quickly stepped off of it and found a trail of them, which he followed with his eyes. Then he was horror struck, the bones led to a large pile of bodies. Dead, rotting corpses, all bunched together and clutching each other, covered in what looked like hardened black ash and tar...men, woman, children...faces pulled in absolute horror. But the one that was most disturbing, yes, for once, Sherlock Holmes found the sight of corpses disturbing...was the body of a woman clutching a baby. The slits that had once been eyes were opened wide in fear, and her mouth was open in a permanent scream, and the baby looked like it had been crying. A baby. An innocent child, would never get the chance to grow up.

"The Dragon fire, from twisted wire..." that explained the ash and tar. If he really tried, he could still smell the sent of the smoke and burning flesh.

"Oh my God..." was all Sherlock could say, for he realized then that the story was true, and he was at the very place it occurred. He slowly backed away from the awful sight, turned away and ran. He just ran. He didn't stop until he was back in the tapestry hall, only to take off again into another room with an unearthly light to it. Then he stopped in awe...this hall was full of treasures, and piles and piles of more gold than he'd ever seen. The whole room was filled. No place you walked remained uncovered by gold. Then he realized with a jolt that it was the one he'd seen in the fire. Everything he had seen was real, the Doctor's TARDIS had led him to this place, the place where all the scenes and the song had come from. And he was stuck. Then he saw something red sweep across the gold. Then, from somewhere across from that, there was a whoosh sound, and gold fell away revealing part of a massive scarlet snout, and the large nostril moved as it inhaled and low rumbling was heard...snores. It was the Dragon. The horrid creature that Sherlock had found himself terrified of. The one with the similar voice. He knew it was him. And he was standing in the same room with the sleeping beast. Then he was hit with another terrifying thought: he had gone back in time. The Dragon's voice was so similar. The images from the fire he had seen were linked with it. Something about the beast reminded him of himself. He concluded: the Dragon was him. Sherlock was the Dragon. Sherlock and this thing were one. This animal that had caused all this pain and damage was Sherlock from a different time period. Sherlock had caused quite a bit of damage back home himself, leaving his friends to grieve for two years after that horrid stunt he was forced to pull.

"I'm a beast inside." He said, leaning against a post and sinking to the ground, suddenly getting hit with a wave of emotion as the unfamiliar feeling of tears pricking his eyes came over him. For once he wished he was back at 221B with John, watching crap telly and drinking tea. "I'm so sorry, John." He said. Then he hid his head and let the salty tears fall. He missed his John. He'd already lost him once...and now again. The fall and the many events then after had changed Sherlock, from a high-functioning sociopath to an emotional wreck of a man. He cried for a bit longer before he pulled himself together, stood up and faced himself...Well, the Dragon, but you know what I mean. "Listen to me," he said, "I will find him, Rose and the Doctor, and I'm not gonna let you stop me."

_A/N: Okay, that was a bit corny, angsty and cliche there at the end...not to mention a bit OOC on Sherlock's part, but I would think all the crap that had happened from the Fall (this story takes place post-Reichenbach) to that point would take a toll on him. He went through a lot of crap, and I don't think he's a heartless arse, I think that he's unstable and sensitive inside, and I don't know if anyone else noticed, but Sherlock was a bit depressed in Season 3, that's my justification for that bit. So I hope you all enjoyed it, I try to keep characters as in-character as possible. Anyway, stay tuned for the next chapter, we get to see the Doctor and Rose again, and John comes back in the picture. Reviews please. _

_-Queen-of-the-TARDIS _


	5. Chapter 3

~Chapter 3~

JOHN

"Ow! Damn!" John cursed again. That was the hundredth time he had been raked by sharp thorns. He was tired, sore, irritable, scratched, bruised, cut, and his clothing was torn due to waking up in thorn bushes and spending twenty minutes ripping himself free. After he had done that, he tended some of his worst wounds and then just walked. He had been walking for a long time in a seemingly endless, dense forest (no not Mirkwood), still stuck in endless tree, not finding a cleared pathway. At this point all he wanted to do was curl up and pass out, but he needed to find his companions first. "After I get out of this bloody forest." He said to himself. He continued to fight his aching body and make his way.

When he was at the point where he felt as though he would fall over and his feet would fall off, the forest began to thin out. At once, he forgot about fatigue and took off running, pain covered every inch of him, but he just ran, ran until he found a clear, but muddy path, muddy, because it was pouring down rain. "If it's not an endless forest, its rain." He muttered, becoming soaked to the skin only moments after he stepped onto the path and started walking. Now with the weight of his clothes, his exhaustion, and soreness, John trudged very slowly, through the sloppy mud, panting, getting the entire bottom of his wet shoes up to the knees covered in mud. "I have to stop." He said after a while, feeling the symptoms of extreme exhaustion come over his weakened body. However, he forced himself on, until his feet just stopped, and he let himself fall forward in a heap onto the middle of the muddy road, soaking himself with it as exhaustion overtook him and he fell into unconsciousness.

THE DOCTOR

The dwarves were quite a lively lot, he decided. Gloin had introduced him to everyone in the company, including Gandalf, the Wizard, and Bilbo, a tiny creature they called a hobbit, who looked exactly like John in the face, well, minus the messy light brown curls. Even the voice sounded the same. The Doctor thought that maybe it was him, from the past. He was a nice little bloke, shy and quiet, but the Doctor sensed a very intelligent mind. He remained in the back with him and Gandalf, perched uncomfortably (and rather embarrassingly) on the back of the cargo pony, not to mention that it was pouring down rain, so the road was a puddle of slippery brown slop. The ponies trudged on, getting their miniature horse legs caked with mud up to the knees.

"Mr. Gandalf, can't you do something about this deluge?" asked an older dwarf they called Dori.

"It is raining, Master Dwarf, and it will continue to rain until the rain is done." Gandalf replied, "If you wish to change the weather of the world, you should find yourself another wizard."

"Are there any?" asked the Doctor.

"Any what?" was Gandalf's answer.

"Other wizards…or...are you the only one?"

"There are five of us, the greatest of our order is Saruman, then there are the two blue wizards, Alatar and Pallando, then there's Radagast, Radagast the Brown."

"Is he a great wizard...or is he...more like you?" Bilbo cut in. Gandalf looked offended, but simply answered,

"I think he is a very great wizard, in his own way. He is a gentle soul who prefers the company of animals over others. He keeps a watchful eye over the vast forest lands to the East, and a good thing too, for always evil will look to find a foothold in this world." Gandalf explained.

"…So, are you…human?"

"No, I am not; I and my kin are what you would call Istari or Maiar. We are spirits in human form sent by the Valar (essentially the founders and gods of Middle Earth) to help protect and shape it."

The Doctor nodded in understanding.

"And what about you?" asked Bilbo, "Are you human?"

"No. I'm a Time Lord."

"A Time Lord?" Bilbo reiterated the words and it was obvious they sounded strange on his tongue.

"I travel through time and different worlds in my ship with my companions. That's why I'm here. I need to find them."

"How many companions did you have?" Bilbo asked.

"Three. Two men and a young woman. One of the men, Sherlock, is about six feet tall with dark clothing and curl black hair, the other man, John, has extremely short blonde hair streaked with a bit of grey…who bears a strong resemblance to you, if I do say so myself, and as for the woman, she has blonde hair a bit longer than her shoulders. "

"What's her name?"

"Rose."

"Now that name I have heard, but I've never heard the names John or Sherlock."

"We're not exactly from this world. Like I said, we crashed landed here."

"On your ship?"

"Exactly. I like this one! You're clever."

"Thank you…and umm, the Time Lords…how many are there?"

The Doctor felt his happiness pulled out of him. He didn't say anything for a while.

"Doctor?"

"It's just me. The rest are dead. A war destroyed my home."

"Oh…I am sorry."

"Eeh, it's fine, really, it is."

Suddenly, the Company came to an abrupt halt.

"Fili, Kili, why did you stop?" came the gruff voice of Thorin.

"There's someone lying in the middle of the road." Fili said.

"They don't look like an orc though, but then again, they're covered in so much mud I can't tell." Kili added.

The Doctor straightened on his pony; this could be one of his companions! He jumped off his pony and ran to the front of the company and joined the brothers, and the company, who were gathered around and bent over the still form. He joined them, not caring that his coat dragged in the mud. At once he recognized the hair and the familiar jumper and jeans. John! The Doctor flipped John over onto his back, he was very dirty, and the rain only helped to remove some of the mud from his body, enough for the Doctor to see he was covered in scratches and cuts, and that his skin and clothes were torn. His body was still, and his eyes, closed.

"Oh! Blimey!" exclaimed the dwarf, Bofur, "He looks just like our burglar!"

"By Mahal, he does." Added the dwarf, Dwalin.

"Oh, dear me!" exclaimed Bilbo, "He does!"

"Is he dead?" asked Kili.

"Kili!" Fili exclaimed.

"I don't know." The Doctor answered.

"How long had he been here?" the Doctor wondered, "Minutes? Hours? Days? Weeks? Months?" He pressed his cheek to John's chest, and it took him a bit to find the right side, what with the Doctor himself bearing two hearts, luckily though, John's heart was beating, and he was breathing.

"He's alive." The Doctor said, "Just out cold, but he needs to be kept warm, and he's injured."

"Who is he?" Thorin demanded, stepping forward.

"He's one of my companions."

"Your companion bears a stolen face." said the shy brown-haired dwarf, the youngest in the company, Ori.

At once, all the dwarves began to blabber and talk at once. It was loud, and their voices carried, filling the air with the gradually stopping rain. The Doctor got to a point where he couldn't take it anymore.

"For crying out loud!" he exclaimed, "It's not helping if we're standing around blabbering and staring at him! He needs medical attention and we need to get him off the road! So everyone just be quiet and stop standing 'round like a useless lot and get on your ponies, we need to find somewhere we can stop, because the middle of the road is not the time and place!" Every single pair of eyes looked at him, and then to Thorin.

"Go on then, do as he says. Fili, Kili, help him." Thorin said. Everyone went off to follow orders.

"He can ride the cargo pony. I'll walk." said the Doctor.

"If you can lift him by the arms, that'd be fantastic." said the Doctor. Fili and Kili nodded and took either arm and lifted him to a sitting position.

"Hold him." The Doctor said. He shrugged of his coat, put it on John and wrapped it around the shivering form. Then the Doctor slipped his arms under John's knees and on his back and lifted him bridal style, nearly falling, because the weight of a full grown man was heavy. He carried him over to the pony and Fili and Kili followed, helping the Doctor balance John on the pony. Then he set off, walking the pony along.

-xXx-

ROSE

Rivendell was a beautiful place, Rose decided. After The meal she'd shared with the elves, Lindir had been nice enough to give her a tour of the whole thing and Elrond, the master of the house, who she liked a lot, gave her permission to roam freely anywhere she liked. She was pampered too, and got to wear lots of beautiful dresses. The only problem was that it was so big and she found herself getting lost all the time, so she always had to ask for directions. She had been there for about three days now, and finally was starting to memorize certain places. Her favorite place was courtyard with cobbled white stones and a large fountain in the middle. She would sit there and write in her dairy, or sketch pictures of things…and of the Doctor. She missed him very much and hoped he would turn up soon, if he didn't she would leave Rivendell and go searching.

-xXx-

It was a particularly nice afternoon, just after lunch, and Rose was sitting in a pale orange dress with spaghetti straps and sleeves attached the sides of the bodice (which had a small silver brooch in the middle of it), draping down to her hands so her shoulders and part of her upper arms were showing, and a simple circlet around her head. Her hair was down and in big curls near the end. She was perched on the fountain, again sketching yet another picture of the Doctor. She was doing some shading and texture in his hair when she had a feeling someone was watching her. She scanned her eyes around. No one, just some rose bushes. She shrugged and turned back to her drawing. After a few more moments, a perky voice of a boy cut in, "Who's that?"

She gasped and hid the picture, and turned to see who the voice belonged to. "Sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you." He said. She found a boy, about six, maybe a little younger, with messy, shaggy, slightly wavy dark hair and bright blue eyes, dressed in black trousers, boots, a dark blue-grey tunic with the sleeves rolled up to the crook of his arm with a wooden sword at his side in a belt.

"No one, really."

"Are you sure it's not someone you fancy?"

Rose felt her cheeks turn pink; she was not going to tell a perky boy the truth. "No, he's not. He's just a friend."

"And you're drawing him?"

"Yes. I like drawing."

"What's his name?"

"He calls himself the Doctor."

"That's a strange name. But it's a very good drawing, nonetheless. What Is your name? Elrond said they found you outside the gates and that you're not from abroad."

"I'm Rose. And yes, I'm not from around, neither are the Doctor, or the other two companions I was with."

"Then where are you from?"

"Long story." Awkward silence, "What's your name then?" Rose asked.

"Estel."

"How old are you, Estel?"

"Five. My birthday was a few months ago."

"Elrond says that when I turn thirteen he'll let me handle a real sword."

"You've got a few more years to go, you're almost there." Rose smiled.

"I know. I'm looking forward to it." He smiled for a few moments then said, "So Rose, do you like Rivendell?"

"Yes, it's beautiful. But I'm thinking I'm going to leave in a few weeks if my companions don't turn up, so I can go look for them."

"Good luck, they could be anywhere…and it's dangerous out there. Elrond says that the outside world is full of orcs and goblins and dragons and horrible beasts, and many dangers. Still, I would love to go out and see the world. I haven't been very far. When I'm a man, I'll find every last orc and kill them. My real father was killed by them, so my mum brought me here and Elrond has been raising me. Anyway, I hate orcs, and they deserve to die.

"I'm sorry about your loss. But if it helps anything, my father was killed too. I don't like to talk about it."

"Neither do I."

"So what are orcs?"

"Ugly beasts that kill everyone for no reason. They used to be elves, but they were changed and cursed. I've only seen them once, but I was two, so I don't remember. I don't want to."

Well if they're as bad as any alien I've met, they are dreadful. Rose thought. "They sound awful." She said.

"They are." They sat in another awkward silence, when suddenly, a female voice rang out.

"Estel! Estel! Estel, where are you, you silly boy, it's time for your lessons! You've had a long enough afternoon break, all the other children are already with Glorfindel, they're waiting on you."

"Hide me, Rose!" Estel said.

"Why, who is it?"

"My foster sister, she's trying to get me back to my lessons. I don't want to! Glorfindel is so boring when he's not telling stories."

"How do you know he isn't going to tell stories today?"

"He only tells stories at the end of the week. It's the middle of the week right now."

Rose laughed, "I was in your same predicament when I was in school, but you need to learn if you want to be a smart man."

Estel groaned and Rose laughed. That was when a beautiful, young elvish woman entered the courtyard. She was wearing a light blue dress, and a beautiful necklace, the Evenstar, Rose remembered, and appeared out of breath. She had long, wavy dark hair and piercing blue eyes, and of course, the same beautiful elvish features as everyone else. She stopped at the fountain and caught her breath.

"Estel, there you are!"

"I am terribly sorry if he was bothering you," she apologized.

"Oh no, he's a great boy. I like him a lot."

Estel smiled, and then stuck his tongue out at her.

She glared. "Most of the time." The elf girl said.

"Arwen! That isn't nice!"

"Says the one who just made a rude gesture." She replied, then she smiled and sighed, "But I love you anyway." She kissed him on the cheek and he wiped it away, blushing, "Arwen!" He whined.

She laughed, and then took him by the hand, "Off we go, c'mon." She started to lead him away.

"Goodbye Rose." Estel called.

Arwen turned and waved too, "Farewell." Arwen said, and then they were gone. She liked them both, she decided, and she also thought it was funny to see them act like siblings, rather than lovers, like she had seen them in the movies. She smiles after them and then continued her sketch of the Doctor.

**A/N: Enter Arwen and little Aragorn. I figured that before he learned about his heritage, (which he was told a few years after the date this story takes place in) and that he would have been your average, lively, sweet kid. I was writing this while thinking about my cousins and younger sisters and I quite enjoyed writing the sibling banter so I hope everyone liked it. Now, last thing...REVIEW PLEASE! Reviews make me happy. Next chapter we get into the actual plot line of "The Hobbit". **


	6. Chapter 4

~CHAPTER 4~

SHERLOCK

"Listen to me," he said, "I will find John, Rose and the Doctor, and I'm not gonna let you stop me." His voice rang throughout the mountain and he stood up, with a burst of triumph and determination through his tear-stained face at what he said. But his triumph was cut off when a low growling sounded from beneath the gold, and the sound of the riches falling away rang throughout the room. Sherlock's eyes grew wide as the gold slowly began to fall away and crimson scales became visible. The Dragon was awake, and Sherlock was responsible. He took off running as fast as he could, trying to find a hiding place as the Dragon slowly began to rise its full length.

Sherlock knew he was short on time, so he picked up speed, when he tripped on his own feet and fell forward, tumbling and sliding head-first down a hill of gold, unable to catch his balance on the slippery treasure. Thus, he barreled right into a large pile of coins with a loud "crash". He also was hit with a sudden darkness and shortness of breath as he found himself underneath the very pile he had crashed into. He froze, after finding an air hole in the pile, and didn't move at all, just lying there on his stomach, completely submerged in a sea of riches. And he listened, as the sound of a large, groggy body began to walk through around the gold.

"I know you're there." Came the chilling, all-to-familiar voice. The voice sounded almost identical to Sherlock's but darker, deeper, and more rumbly. "More evil." Sherlock decided.

"Do not think you can hide for long, thief." The Dragon threatened, "I smell the scent of man, the scent of a frightened man, and I can hear you breathing."

Clattering sounded as the Dragon began to toss away and dig through the gold, looking for Sherlock.

"If he finds me, I really am going to be dead." Sherlock thought.

"Where are you, thief? Don't be shy, now." The Dragon said in a sing-song voice, "I won't hurt you. I only want to see your face." The Dragon almost sounded convincing. "I would actually enjoy the company of someone, I am a bit lonely here."

"You won't hurt me, you'll kill me, and by "enjoying" my company, you actually mean that you're going to enjoy eating me...and by lonely, you mean, "hungry"." Sherlock thought.

So, with these thoughts in his head, Sherlock stayed still.

He heard the Dragon move about again and dig through more gold. The Dragon circled a few more moments before Sherlock heard him plop down again and sigh, "Well, I guess it is just my imagination again." The Dragon said. The Dragon snorted. Still, Sherlock did not move. This was one of the oldest, most predictable, boring tricks in the book; playing possum. Pretending to sleep, and pretending to not care. Several moments of silence passed before the Dragon rumbled again. "Clever one, aren't you?" He said. There was several moments of silence, when suddenly, a large, scaly, spiked red tail slapped over the pile of gold Sherlock was under. Sherlock ducked, curling up into a ball and hiding his face and head, so the back of his head and the back of his black coat was visible. The tail missed him by a hair and he felt the air of it as swept back around, throwing the gold aside, causing Sherlock to be in plain sight.

"There you are." The Dragon said, leaning his humongous head down so his mouth of pointed teeth and foul breath was ghosting the side of Sherlock' s face. Sherlock dared not look up, for he knew the Dragon was right beside him. Yet, at the same time, he was curious to see him. So, taking a deep breath, he slowly lifted his head, and found that the Dragon was two centimeters away from him and he was staring directly into an enormous amber eye, and a sort of evil grin was on the Dragon's mouth, which revealed a row of old, sharp, pointed teeth. Sherlock jumped and backed up, tripping and falling back on his arse, the dragon lumbering toward him. Sherlock looked up at him and began to crab walk away, only until he lost his balance and fell backward, tumbling backwards down a steep hill of gold, and found himself pressed against the wall, with the Dragon gaining quickly, keeping low to the ground as he moved toward Sherlock with a lizard-like movement. Sherlock made himself as small as possible, turning his head away and shading his face, feeling his body shake, and sweat, and his coat started to feel very hot.

Sherlock bloody Holmes was more terrified than he had ever been as he braced himself for the feeling of claws and razor sharp teeth tearing his flesh. His last thought, "I am so sorry, John."

THE DOCTOR

It seemed like hours as the company continued to horse-back through the forest, which he heard Gandalf mention as being the Trollshaws. The Doctor did not know what that meant, but hearing the word "troll" in it, he wasn't sure he wanted to find out.

As they continued their trek, the aching in the Doctor's legs and feet kept progressing, worsening as they continued. His clothes were muddy and damp, his body was dirty, his hair felt disgusting, and he was tired. On top of things, John still had not woken up. The dwarvish healer, Oin, Gloin's brother, had tended to him and cleaned his wounds, binding the worst ones, but the man was still out cold.

"Are you okay, Master Doctor?" Came the thick, accented voice of Gloin.

The Doctor shuddered at the word "master" and turned his head, "I'm okay." He answered. "I'm just really worried about John. If anything happens to him, Sherlock will kill me."

"Sherlock?"

"He's one of my other companions, and he's John's best mate."

"Ahh, I see. He'll be fine, Oin is a great healer, one of the best."

The Doctor managed a small smile at the optimism of the ginger dwarf. There was a block of silence, when out of the blue, he said, "Do you have any family...I mean, like a wife or children?"

"I have a wee lad and a beautiful wife." Gloin said, "Me lad is Gimli, and me wife is Mim."

"How old is your boy?"

"He's young, he would be only a little boy of 5 if he was a human."

"So he is pretty young then."

"Aye. He wanted to come with me on the quest but he's still too young yet. He was complaining because he usually played with Fili and Kili and they were leaving...that and Mim would not let her little boy go."

The Doctor chuckled in spite of himself. "I would love to meet your son."

"Maybe you can. If we survive this, then I will let you meet him." Gloin said.

"I look forward to it." The Doctor answered.

Gloin smiled. That was when the company started to come to a stop in front of them.

"We will camp here for the night," Thorin said. The Doctor looked on: their campsite was the shabby, old ruins of a medium sized house. "Fili, Kili, look after the ponies, Oin, Gloin, get a fire going, Bofur, Bombur, get the meal started, we're hungry. As for the rest of you, you all know the drill, set up camp. And Doctor, look after your friend." The Doctor nodded, and smiled in gratitude, before he lifted John off the pony. He took off the trench coat and laid in down like a blanket, putting John on top of it. His body and clothes were still a bit damp, so the Doctor took off the dirty coat of John's and set it aside. Then he examined the cuts on John's skin. They were already starting to heal relatively fast, though the ones that were more severe were slower. The Doctor changed the bandages and decided that the most severe damage was to John's checkered brown and white button up, which was almost completely torn to shreds.

The Doctor sat cross-legged by John's side, refusing to move as he waited patiently yet nervously, biting his nails, and on occasion, drumming them on his knee, when he heard the sound of raised voices. He turned his head to see Gandalf storming off. "What's going on?" Bilbo asked, "Gandalf, where are you going?"

"To seek the company of the only one around here who's got any sense!" Gandalf replied hastily.

"And who's that?" Inquired Bilbo.

"Myself, Master Baggins! I've had enough of dwarves for one day." He added as he stalked off. Then he saw Thorin storm out directly afterwards, pacing, muttering, and kicking pebbles.

"I trust that didn't go over well." said a voice. For a moment, the Doctor thought it was Bilbo, but it sounded too close to be the hobbit. So the Doctor looked down.

"John!" He exclaimed happily, a huge smile painted in his face, "Thank God you're okay!" He pulled John into a bone-crushing hug, surprising the shorter man, though eventually he hugged back.

"Yes, fantastic, but where's Rose and Sherlock?"

"We were all separated. I don't know where they are. I joined the company to find them."

"Are they okay at least?"

"I really hope."

"I can't lose him again." John said, half to himself.

The Doctor set a hand on John's shoulder, "We'll find them." He offered a small smile. John forced one back.

"So, umm, where are we...and part of what company?"

"We're in Middle Earth in the year TA 2941. We're with the company of Thorin Oakenshield."

"Middle Earth? Isn't that the setting for J.R.R. Tolkien's "Lord of the Rings" books?"

"Yep."

"And...the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, from the prequel of "Lord of the Rings", "the Hobbit." John realized, "But how? This place doesn't even exist...or at least it isn't supposed to. But then again, Tolkien did state Middle Earth existed way before anything else did. So I don't know, it's possible. A few years ago that would have sounded mad, but with the whole Extraterrestrial and science fiction stuff that's been happening lately...and you and your time-traveling TARDIS, I wouldn't be surprised."

The Doctor chuckled. "Well, since we're here, I'm assuming it's real. This is the farthest in the past I have ever gone."

There was an awkward block of silence. John, who was still lying on his back, moved to get a different position, only to feel a sharp pain in his side "Owww." John let out a cry of pain under his breath and grabbed his side, only to discover it wrapped in linen bandages, "Bloody hell that stings."

The Doctor looked at him, "That's where your deepest gash is. I don't know what you did, but while we were examining your body for any bad wounds we found it. A deep, jagged gash running from your side to part of your back and chest. Oin said it's gonna scar."

"Oin?"

"He's the healer of the company. Ahh, here he us now."

John looked, a tiny man...no, a dwarf, with long grey hair and a big grey beard, carrying a hearing trumpet came to their side. "It's good to see that you are awake, lad." He said.

"You must be Oin." John said.

"Aye."

"Nice to meet you. I'm John. John Watson."

" My, you sound like him too...but anyway, pleasure to meet you too , Master Watson. Now, I must check your wounds."

"Oh, yes of course." John forced himself up to a sitting position and unbuttoned his nearly shredded shirt, revealing a pale, well built chest. He pulled his arms out, but kept it wrapped around his shoulders and waited uncomfortably as Oin undid the linen bandages. There was, indeed, an ugly, long, bloodied gash, arched a bit, so only part of it was seen. It was shiny, showing that Oin had rubbed some sort of ointment on it. "Damn." John said, "that is bad. It's smart of you to keep it covered, the bloody thing could get infected easily." He also noticed several other smaller scratches from the thorns spread across his torso. They were here in there, some ran diagonally, some up and down, others left to right. They varied in lengths too. The worst, and largest ones were in his right side. However, they weren't as bad as the gash. He also noticed they were littered across his arms in some places, and all over his hands. He also felt stinging on his legs, but those scratches weren't near as bad. His knees and elbows were skinned, but that was it.

"You have some on your face, too." The Doctor said, "One above your eyebrow, a few little ones on both cheeks, your chin, and across your nose."

"Well thanks." John replied.

"No problem." The Doctor smiled.

John shook his head, then let out an "Oww, shit!" As a cold sting touched the worst gash.

"Apologies." Oin said, "I should have warned you."

"No, it's fine."

"Can you take your shirt away, please, I can't see the rest of your wound." Oin asked.

"Oh, sure." He pulled it away, revealing the starburst scar on his shoulder, and he hoped no one would see it. It made him very self-conscious.

Oin nodded and finished his work."there we are. We better keep an eye on that one."

"Thank you." John quickly pulled the shirt back on and re-buttoned it. Oin nodded and left. That was when someone approached them.

"Here you go." Someone said, holding out two bowls of stew.

John's automatic first thought, "What the f*ck?" He looked up, a tiny little person, smaller than a dwarf, with curly light brown hair, and a face identical to his was standing there holding some bowls of stew. John met his gaze with him. It was like a mirror image...but not. They both had the same expression, both there mouths parted in a somewhat "o", their gazes utterly confused.

"What...You...You look exactly like...Doctor, what is this?"

"His name is Bilbo Baggins, he's a hobbit."

"He looks exactly like me. It's almost like he's me from Middle Earth."

"He could be." The Doctor replied with a shrug.

John fixed his gaze on Bilbo again. "Well, it's gonna take some time getting used to but I guess I have no other choice." He forced himself to look into the eyes of his look alike as he took the bowl. "Thanks." He shot him a small smile and he returned the favor.

"Thank you." said the Doctor. The hobbit smiled and left.

John began to eat hungrily, and the stew was delicious, complete with meat, he figured was beef, herbs, and veggies, some, but not all, and a bit of bread and ale. The Doctor was the exact opposite, he put is bowl down in front of him, was sitting cross-legged on the ground, and pecking at his food with the spoon, lazily twirling the juice, his cheek slumped in his left hand, hair droopy from the rain. His clothes were still damp and dirty, and he was very uncomfortable.

"Not hungry?" John asked.

"What? Oh. No, not really. I just don't feel like eating. Too many thoughts running through my head."

"Like Sherlock." John said, half to himself, "He doesn't eat when he's thinking either."

When the Doctor did not respond, John thought up a clever trick, then he scooted closer, some of the ale was starting to produce endorphins, and set a hand on the Doctor's shoulder,

"You're thinking about her aren't you?" He inquired.

The Doctor straightened and turned his head towards him. "What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

The Doctor sighed, "I just don't know if she's safe. She's been in danger several times while she's been with me. She's nearly died so many times. This is the worst predicament yet. We're completely separated, and Middle Earth is an entire different world, not to mention it's huge too. I don't know where she is, I don't know if she's safe...I don't even know if she's..."

"Now, don't you go thinking like that. I'm sure she's okay."

"You don't sound certain." The Doctor muttered, feeling like a major pessimist at the moment, contradicting his usually optimistic attitude.

"The thing is, I know exactly how you feel, because I feel the same way. With every moment, Sherlock always enters my mind, I'm worried about him too. I just want to find them both so we can get out of here. But the thing is...I'm scared too. I've already lost Sherlock once."

"Lost him? How do you mean?"

"He faked his own suicide and left me to grieve for him for two years."

"That's terrible."

"He said that he had to, and that there wasn't choice."

John's thoughts wandered as he recalled what Sherlock had said. "I had no choice, Moriarty and the Network had to be stopped. And...it was either I died, or you, Mrs. Hudson, and Lestrade all did. Moriarty had three of his network pointing guns at you. I was scared. I had to save you all...because I...I care about you. When my brother told me that sentiment was a weakness, he was wrong. Don't you see, John...I had to." The man had practically reduced himself to tears as he explained himself.

There had been an uncomfortable silence, minus the sound of Sherlock sniffling. Sherlock never said anything close to that. Final conclusion: he was sincere. Then John had moved forward. "Oh, come here, you bloody dolt!" John had thrown his arms around Sherlock and gave him a long embrace, instantly breaking into tears, and Sherlock too.

"And did you believe him?" The Doctor's voice broke into John's flashback.

"Of course I did. He's not exactly the prankish, lying type."

"Didn't seem like it."

"We have the right to be worried. It's a good thing we are. But we have to stay strong. We'll find them. Right now, just please eat." John finished.

"Alright, alright." The Doctor began to eat. The stew was good, he decided. Yet, his mind continued to wander to Rose. He stopped eating and said to John.

"She's constantly in my thoughts. Even when I'm trying to fight off some alien or even just sleeping, she's always there. And when she's around, I feel like I can do anything. I love being around her. I mean, I love being around all my other companions too...but something about her just..." He stopped, "Sorry, thinking out loud again."

"No it's fine." John replied, "Because now I know what's going on with you."

"What is it? Is it bad?" The Doctor asked.

John smiled, and chuckled. "No, not at all."

"Then what is it?"

"Doctor, you're in love."

**A/N: As if we didn't know that already. Lol. Anyway, just a quick note on where on the Doctor Who timeline this takes place: I was thinking right after the "Fear Her" episode (season 2 episode 11), yes, right before the season finale (Doomsday) *cries and dies* hope you all liked that chapter. I'll update this soon. Remember: Reviews make me happy. **


	7. Chapter 5

~CHAPTER 5~

SHERLOCK

He waited. And he waited. He waited for the painful feeling of razors ripping him apart. But it never came. Instead the overwhelming smell of bad breath, strong smoke, metal and rotting flesh filled his nose as darkness hit him and he and some treasure was taken up inside the Dragon's mouth whole. The feeling of a dry tongue scraped his skin, and sticky saliva covered him. It was hot. So hot. It must have been in the hundred degree range. He didn't move. He was lying on his stomach, arms sprawled out in front of him, legs extended their full length behind him. His body was touching a rough sandpaper material, his hands too. It was just slightly damp. He opened his eyes, he was in complete darkness, save for a faint light deep within wherever he was. In front of him, he saw what looked like pointed, white triangles. The awful smell was overwhelming, and he found it hard to breath...as if he was suffocating in smoke, metal, bad breath, saliva, and corpses. It took him less that twelve seconds to figure out where he was...He was inside the mouth of the dragon, lying on his stomach on a humongous tongue. "Oh my God." He said. "He's gonna swallow me whole. I need to get a grip on something." He looked around. Then he saw it, a space between two of the dragon's teeth on the bottom row. He wasted no time. He undid his scarf, and tied it tightly onto one of the teeth. Then he tied one of his wrists with it, and wrapped it around that arm. He also seized the scarf in a death grip with both hands, and he hung on. Good thing too, because there was a sudden movement as the Dragon flipped his head and the inside of the mouth flipped at a 90° angle. Coins began to fall down into the dark black hole of the beast' s throat. Sherlock hung by his scarf completely, the weight of his body and gravity pulled him down, and below him, was an endless black hole... and the faintest glimmer of light. He knew this to be the Dragon's fire breath. He held on, face contorting in pain, as sweat droplets dripped down his forehead, due to the burning temperature. His arms felt like they would get pulled off, and he started to slip. And it didn't help when the Dragon started shaking his head from side to side, jostling Sherlock so he would let go. But he would not give in so quickly. He hung on for dear life, all his weight being held by his arms and hands. Suddenly, he felt himself being pulled down farther, he looked up: the scarf, due to the weight, was coming undone gradually.

He was getting shook, kept moving back and forth and swinging wildly, feeling like his arms would get pulled off. Sherlock started screaming, a wrangled, loud cry, sweat dripping from his forehead and soaking the tips of his dark brown curls. His sweaty, reddened hands started slipping. He started making struggling noises, and he fell down farther, when the scarf slipped and he started to fall, heat and smoke filling his lungs, and he descended. "Think, Sherlock, think!" His mind screamed. Then he got it. He stretched out his arms and legs to his full length and he pressed himself against the Dragon's neck. He held himself there, his arms and legs stretched out completely (thank God for his long limbs), watching as the scarf descended. Directly below him was a bright, red-Orange fire. He looked down, sweating profusely. His face pulled in a mix of relief and horror. He waited there in silence, his limbs already tired, but getting even more so.

When he felt like his limbs were going to give out. The whole inside of the dragon began to shake. A loud, strangled sound much like thunder erupted. The Dragon was choking on Sherlock. The coughing fit lasted forever until Sherlock' s grip as ripped from him and he began to fall forward, in a rush of colors, heat and smoke. Everything was a blur, when suddenly, bright light rushed into Sherlock' s eyes and he was blinded. Then there was a powerful thump, and he hit something hard, and all light disappeared as he was knocked unconscious again.

THE DOCTOR AND JOHN

"Damn I feel awful." John said.

"So do I." added the Doctor, "I could go for a bath right now."

"That sounds great." John commented, "but that's not gonna happen."

"There's a stream running through the forest. I don't know how big, clean, or deep it is, but it might do justice." Offered the Doctor.

"You mean bathe in public?" John exclaimed.

The Doctor shrugged, "everyone in medieval times does it. No one cares. Male, female, children, everyone bathes in public. There really is no other choice."

"Well I guess you're right." John sighed, "It would be better than nothing."

"Then c'mon." The Doctor said, he got up from the coat, and helped John up. Then he grabbed the coat and slung it over his shoulder, "To the stream. Allons-y!" They headed farther into the trees and found the stream. There was a bit of rushing water, but after going a little ways down, after a few small waterfalls, they found a sort of small pool that would be perfect. It was densely hidden in the trees, providing plenty of coverage. There was also a tree with a gnarled branch that jutted out, and was perfect for slinging clothes over. The Doctor wasted no time. He kicked of his shoes and jumped into the pool, clothes, coat and all, sinking below the surface. It was about five feet deep. "Mother of Timelords, the waters bloody cold! But at the same time it feels refreshing."

He scrubbed all the dirt from his clothes, and then took them all off. He slung them over the tree branch, exposing his pale body. His hair sticking to his head. "C'mon John." The Doctor said. John was awkwardly standing at the bank, clearing his throat.

"John, you're dirtier than me. I'll turn away." He turned, and used a rock to scrub away the mud and grime. He heard a splash from behind him, "Holy shit! This water is freezing!" John exclaimed as his head and shoulders appeared above the water. He scrubbed away the dirt, and then stripped them and rung them out, and draped them over the branch. He and the Doctor bathed awkwardly, away from each other, using rocks to scrub away the dirt, unfortunately scrubbing some of their skin red and raw.

After a while, the Doctor began to swim around. John stayed put though. Eventually, after about an hour, the two were readying themselves to get out, when the forest began to shake, and a thundering sound erupted.

John and the Doctor froze. "What the hell is that?" John asked.

"We should go." Said the Doctor. He and John jumped out and put on their still dampened clothes and headed away from the stream. They tore through the trees and nearly crashed full force into Fili, Kili, and Bilbo.

"Shh!" Fili hissed.

"What is it?" John whispered.

"Trolls." Kili said, with venom in his voice. John an the Doctor joined the brothers and the hobbit. A huge, fat, bald, decidedly ugly creature was marching straight through the trees, underneath each arm, he carried a pony.

"He's got Myrtle and Minty!" Bilbo exclaimed.

"Don't they eat them?" John asked.

"Of course they do. Trolls are carnivores...regardless which subspecies they are." The Doctor said.

T

"We've got to do something then." Bilbo said.

"When they finish off the ponies, they're gonna go straight for us." John reasoned.

"Then we've gotta stop them." Said the Doctor, "Bilbo and I will go."

The hobbit instantly started to protest.

"that's a good idea!" Kili beamed, "Mountain trolls are slow and stupid and you're so small they'll never see you. As for the Doctor...I think someone with as clever a mind as you can get away with it too."

The brothers began to push them toward the trolls.

"It's perfectly safe." Kili tried to reassure, as him and his blonde brother pushed the protesting hobbit and the Doctor along, "We'll be right behind you."

"If you run into trouble," Fili instructed, "Hoot twice like a barn owl, and once like a brown owl." The brothers stopped them in the middle of a clearing.

Bilbo began to mouth the directions to himself as he started to shuffle off, getting mixed up.

"Into the bushes!" Kili and Fili grabbed John by the arms and they kneeled down behind a group of bushes and fallen trees.

"Are you sure this is a good I-" Bilbo stopped as he looked around and saw no one, letting out an expression of irritation.

"It doesn't matter about them," the Doctor said, grabbing Bilbo by the wrist, "We can cope." Then he pointed to the direction of the trolls, "Allons-y!" He said, and they were off.

xXx

Meanwhile, while crouching behind the bushes and fallen trees, an unsure John said, "Are you sure they're gonna be alright?"

"Eeh, they'll be fine." Kili said.

"I doubt the Doctor is going to let anything happen to either of them. " Fili added.

"Besides, he still has to find his Rose." Kili put in.

"You know about that?" John inquired, surprised.

"Aye, that's the first thing he said when he came to when we found him in the clearing; "Rose"." Fili answered.

"Who is she?" Asked Kili. "His wife? Is he courting her? I she his One?"

"Woah, woah, you ask a lot of questions."

"I don't mean to pry, I just wanna know." Kili reassured with a shrug.

"Yeah, tell us about her." Fili pressed.

"...Well, umm, she's young, early twenties (much too young for me, mind you) by human age. She's about average height for a human female, she has blonde hair that falls just passed her shoulders. She's nice, and funny, and she and the Doctor have so much chemistry, it drives me insane."

"Chemistry?" Kili echoed.

"Yeah...it's like...they get along very well, and it's obvious they are attracted to one another, that's chemistry...but, the thing is, they won't admit it. That's why it drives me nuts."

"Maybe we could help get them together." Kili suggested.

"Us? Kili we've never been able to pick up a single lass back with the other Erebor dwarves , so what makes you think we can get the Doctor and Rose together?" Asked Fili.

"It's worth a try. We're pushy...it'll work. And plus, John seems pretty keen on this stuff."

John chuckled, "I don't know." He said, "it's more of me wanting to end an annoyance than being a romance expert."

It was Fill who spoke next, going back to his brother's idea; "But Kee, love takes time, we can't just force it." Fili protested.

"Awww, I supposed you're right...but Fee, from what John has said they already are in love...they just don't realize it. Pushing them wouldn't really make much of a difference."

John chuckled, "Alright, mates, that's enough. And I agree with both of you...we have to get them together and get them to notice...So we will. But we gotta find Rose first." Fili and Kili smiled their ridiculous smiles, and John grinned. ...This was gonna be fun.

_**A/N: Hey, sorry for the lack of updates...school, homework, family, and catching up on Doctor Who got in the way (well not so much Doctor Who, but you know what I mean). Anywhoozles, enter the Ten/Rose shipping trio (this fab idea came from Finnish author "ErinacchiLove" and their fanfic "A Song of the Misty Mountains" (check it out if you like Game of Thrones and Percy Jackson), and I thank them and give them credit for the lovely idea of having shippers in the fanfic. And also, here comes the fun bits. Stay gold, you lot, and don't forget to review!"**_

_**-Queen-of-the-TARDIS **_


	8. Chapter 6

~CHAPTER 6~

A/N: First of all, thank you for bearing with me on this. I realize that the beginning was slow. (quite slow, I might add), but now hopefully it will go smoothly. I've also decided to mix it up. One, the story is gonna follow the events of both the movie and the book, and I'm going to try writing this chapter in first person. Tell me if you all prefer first or third person. And without further ado, chapter 6!

THE DOCTOR

I followed the lumbering 9-foot beast with Bilbo in tow as we made our way, moving so quickly and quietly that our feet scarcely made a sound, whereas the marching troll tearing through the trees made noticeably loud steps which caused the ground to sort of shake, thus making it easier for us to pursue him.

We stalked him until he entered a clearing, where we found to other trolls gathered around a fire sitting on logs. One was stirring a cauldron with a large ladle over the fire, while the other looked on curiously. I stopped swiftly behind the tree, looking behind me, Bilbo was still catching up, "Psst, Bilbo, over here." I beckoned with my hand for him, and he ran beside me, hiding his small form behind my coat. "Look." I pointed to the trio of trolls. I felt his body tense, and I knew he was scared. "Oh they are beautiful." I said, my voice betraying my fascination of the strange creatures.

"How can you think they're beautiful?" Bilbo questioned, "They look pretty big and dangerous to me."

"Strange creatures fascinate me is all." I replied, "I've met so many strange creatures, you could never even imagine. But I've never seen anything like this."

Bilbo shuddered. I turned my head back toward the trolls, the one at the cauldron was complaining, "Mutton yesterday, mutton today, and blimey…if it don't look like mutton again tommora." He said, "I need some man flesh, Tom." He said.

"Oh, quit yer' gripin'," the big one, apparently called Tom, who had brought in and deposited the ponies replied, "These ain't sheep, these is West Nags."

"Oh I don't like 'orse, I never 'ave, not enough fat on them." Said the smallest one, with a much higher voice than the other two, that was sitting on one of the logs.

"Well, it's better than that leathery old farmer. All skin and bone, 'e was, I'm still picking bits of him out of me teeth." The cook replied, "Anyway, it's yer fault, you brought us down 'ere."

"Shut yer mouth, Bert." The high-voiced one growled. Then he sneezed into the cauldron.

"That's disgusting." I muttered.

"Oh, that's lovely that is; a floater." Said Bert.

"Aye, it might improve the flavor," Tom said, coming to join his two brothers at the cauldron.

"Well there's more where that came from." Said the last troll, trying to sneeze again.

"Oh no you don't!" Bert exclaimed. He grabbed him by the nose and throwing him down, "Sit down!"

"Ow, ow, ow!" he whined, rubbing his nose. The trolls were now all gathered around the fire, their backs turned, so they were distracted, as they continued to argue. This was my chance to free the ponies. "Wait here, or come if you want." I said to Bilbo. Drawing out my sonic screwdriver, I made my way silently to the pen, running across to them, and then crouching behind it, to where the ropes were tied, holding the pen closed, not surprised that Bilbo came to my side.

"How are we going to undo the knots?" he mouthed.

I showed him my screwdriver.

"What is that?" he mouthed. I smiled and simply powered it up, starting to burn the rope as the loud, shrill noise, filled the area around me.

"Amazing!" Bilbo marveled, still mouthing.

"Oi, stop that horrid noise William!" exclaimed Tom, turning his burning gaze on the small troll.

"It ain't me!" William squeaked. I stopped and ducked into the shadows, pulling Bilbo with me. "See?" he pressed. Tom simply rolled his eyes. Then William got up and turned toward the pen.

"I hope yer gonna gut these Nags, I don't like the stinky parts." William said, turning his head again.

Bert hit him with the ladle over the head. "Owwwwwwww!" William wailed.

"I said sit down!" Bert growled.

I swear if he abuses him one more time…

"I'm starving!" whined Tom, "Are we having horse tonight or what?"

"Shut yer cakehole, you'll eat what I give ya." Bert replied.

"How come he's the cook?" Tom asked to no one in particular, "everything taste the same…everything taste like chicken."

"Well, except the chicken." William pointed out.

"Well that taste like fish, I'm just sayin'."

"A little appreciation would be nice; "thank you very much, Bert", "lovely stew, Bert". How hard is that?" Bert questioned as he stirred. "Hmm, just needs a sprinkle of squirrel dung…there!" I looked at Bilbo and found that are faces were pulled in disgust, as we crawled across the ground, making our way back to the ropes, taking my sonic screwdriver and turning it on again, continuing to burn through the ropes, only to jump as one of the trolls shouted:

"Oi! That's my grog!" I looked. Bert was turning on William again. William started to make nervous sounds as he slowly handed back the grog. "Sorry." He said. He was hit with the ladle yet again. "Owwwwwww!" he squealed. I started burning the ropes again as the commotion erupted.

"Both of you shut up! There's that noise again." Tom said, "Listen." I froze and turned off the screwdriver, peering at the rope, it was burned enough that I could snap it in half.

"Are you sure you ain't just hearin' things?" questioned Bert.

"I heard it too." William answered. They scanned their gazes around, without doubt looking for the source of the infernal buzzing.

"There ain't nothin' 'ere. Just us." Bert said again, "Now sit yer jacksies down and let's cook us up some horse." Upon hearing that, Bilbo took each of the sides of the nearly split rope and ripped them apart. The rope broke with a powerful snap and the gate open and the ponies, neighing in relief took off through the forest. "What was that!" I mouthed angrily, pulling Bilbo into hiding with me, pressing ourselves against the fence into the shadows. All at once all three trolls stood up and turned, their gazes automatically reverting to the open gate. "Oi! Which one of ye louts left the pen open!? Now our supper's gone!" Bert growled, turning his glare on Tom.

"It weren't me!" Tom said.

"You were the last one to get the horses!" William pointed out.

"Shut up ye stupid ninny! I closed the gate!" Tom shot back.

At once the trolls began a monstrous argument.

"When I say, so, run, make for the way we came." I told Bilbo. He nodded curtly. The trolls turned their backs.

"Now! Allons-y!" I took off sprinting across, not looking back, trusting that the hobbit was behind me, diving head first into the thorn bushes (scratching myself up in the process). I had barely caught my balance again when there was a terrified cry from behind. "DOCTOR!" I poked my head out of the thorn bushes, the trolls had caught Bilbo and Tom was holding him upside down by his leg.

"What are you?" Asked Tom, "Yer too puny to even be a dwarf."

"I'm a burglar-uh, hobbit." Bilbo replied.

"A burglarhobbit?" William marveled.

Bilbo nodded.

"Are there anymore of you burglarhobbits in these parts?" Asked Bert.

"No." He shook his head.

"He's lying." William said.

"No I'm not." Bilbo answered.

"Hold his toes over the fire, make him squeal." William exclaimed. At this moment, I took out my sonic screwdriver and jumped out of the bushes, turning it on. "No you don't!" I said, pointing my sonic screwdriver at them.

"There's that infernal buzzing!" William exclaimed. "Get him!" He lunged at me and I jumped briskly out of the way, still buzzing the screwdriver.

"Turn it off!" Tom growled.

"Put him down first." I replied.

"You what?"

"Put him down or I won't turn it off." The trolls continued to glare.

"Okay. Fine. I haven't shown you what this can do." I pointed it at the cauldron, shook it, pressed it three times and then pressed and held it, for a long time. The liquid inside began to bubble loudly, and speed and force, and the cauldron itself began to swell.

"What are ye doin' with me stew!?" Exclaimed Bert.

"Adding sonic energy to the recipe." I replied. The cauldron began to swell faster and faster, until it completely exploded, the smelly stew splattering on every one. The trolls screamed at the heat on their skin, and pretty soon, Bilbo was flying through the air, and he crashed landed right into me, causing us to bang against the ground.

After getting over a brief stun we got up, only to find all the trolls glaring and growling as they stalked toward us.

"Run!" I exclaimed.

"Where? There's nowhere to go except back to camp…we can't do that." Bilbo replied.

"True. Bad news for us…good news for the trolls."

"Then what do we do?" Bilbo asked.

"I don't know." I said.

Frustration lurked in Bilbo's eyes.

-xXx-

JOHN

"They should have been back by now!" I said worriedly to Fili and Kili. "It's been a while."

"Eeh, I'm sure they're fine." Fili reassured.

"You've been saying that for the past twenty minutes, if not longer." I replied, "And anyway, that's quite a lot of commotion for being "fine"."

"Should we check on them?" asked Kili, turning to his brother.

"Yes, we should." Fili nodded. They started to get up but I grabbed their sleeves, stopping them.

"Not you two. I'll go." I said.

"But you don't even have a weapon." Kili argued.

I brought forth my hand gun from my jacket pocket, "Actually, I do." I winked and set off through the forest, following the firelight, before that, I turned my head, and looking over my shoulder I said, "Do me a favor and call for reinforcements." Fili and Kili nodded and headed off.

When I appeared in the thorn bushes, peeking out into the clearing, it was in complete havoc, the Doctor and Bilbo ran around like headless chickens, trying to get away from the trolls, as the huge, ugly beasts grabbed at them as they darted around their legs, screaming like madmen. I seized my chance and darted out into the clearing, holding a firm stance and pointing my gun at the back of the smallest troll's head. "Oi, you big, carnivorous louts!" I called, "Over hear." I fired the gun once into the clouds. All at once the commotion stopped as the trolls all turned around, and so did Bilbo and the Doctor. On the Doctor's face was a look of manic horror…hatred or something, I wasn't quite sure. But there was definitely a negative emotion in his eyes, and it was directed toward me. For now, though, I disregarded it. Right now, I was facing three monstrous trolls—with their gazes all fixed on me and my gun.

"Why have you got a gun?" exclaimed the Doctor, "I hate guns, why a gun!?" I glanced at him before reverting my gaze back to the trolls.

"You like this, huh? Wanna see how it works?"

"No!" cried the Doctor. I slightly lowered my arm and pointed the gun at the ladle. I fired. The gun cracked, and the bullet flew straight through the middle of the actual spoon part, ripping a perfectly clean hole through it. The troll holding it drew it to his face and studied the hole, then threw it down. "You rat!" it shrieked, "That was my best ladle!"

"Not so great now is it? No. And here's the catch; blowing a hole through that ladle was easy, and it can do the exact same thing through each one of your heads, so do me a favor and let my friends go, I don't really wanna see any more spilled blood because of this gun. So please, if you value your lives, do what I ask you." That's when the trolls attacked, and when the rest of the dwarves burst through the trees, brandishing their weapons and ganging up on the trolls. The rest was a blur, but I knew, through the screams and shrieks of the trolls, the clanging metal, slashing flesh, a gun shots, I was hit over the head with something, just as I saw the Doctor slip behind the trees out of sight.

**A/N: Yeah, another cliffy, I know, but more to come soon. Feedback is welcome, and please tell me what you think: first or third person?**


	9. Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

SHERLOCK

Headache. Again, another one. How many times exactly had I been knocked out? Was that three? Yes. Precisely three. For the bloody last time! Where the hell was I again? Brief calculation: Smells; smoke, metal, bad breath. Feelings: Hot. Awful. Sweating all the way through my coat. Sticky. Disgusting. Hot breath on face. Smooth coins between my fingers, and sticking uncomfortably on me. Final conclusion: I was sitting on a pile of gold. Rough stone on my back. Leaning against the pillar. Sounds: Breathing, who's? Mine, raspy. Wheezing. Me again. Then there was another type: low, rumbly. Low humming in the same tone of voice. Final conclusion; I was sitting on the a pile of gold, leaning against a stone pillar, it was hot, like a furnace, and another thing I realized that was bloody fantastic ; the dragon is right in my face. Gathering up my courage, I opened my eyes only to meet the reptilian scarlet, amber-eyed face, decidedly too close to mine. His mouth was pulled in a manic grin, revealing his sharp, razor—like teeth. "About time you woke up. I thought you dead." His voice sounded too bloody friendly and close to mine to my liking.

I disregarded that. "Why didn't you kill me?" I asked.

"I tried to, but you were very resistant, a normal person would have burned to nothing inside my mouth. You should already be dead."

"What do you mean by that?" I asked.

"A normal man isn't immune to fire. Thus that proves you are not normal. You are unique. "

"I know I'm unique, I'm not an idiot, Dragon."

"Smaug. I am Smaug."

"Don't care. And immune to fire? That is physically impossible. No human being is immune to fire."

"Perhaps you are not fully human."

I chuckled, "Don't be stupid." I said, "As far as I know the only thing above average about me as a human is my intellect."

"And the gold in your eyes. Not as vibrant as mine, but still very much there, I think the gold brightened and grew since you got here. I have never seen another non-dragon creature with such a color in their eyes, have you?"

"No, but it's proven possible." I replied.

"I have to see it to believe it. But I do know this, people like you; those who are immune to fire with the gold in their eyes, they are special. I've never seen one until now. I've only heard stories."

"Well, go on, I'm impatient, tell me what I am since you seem so convinced." I persisted.

"There is a name for you lot; they call you Descendents."

"Descendents from what?" I asked, "Dragons?"

"Yes. And because of that I'm keeping you."

At this moment words caught in my throat and for once in my life I was speechless. Because it meant I descended from murderers.

"And don't think about running, just because you're immune to fire does not mean I will not find another way to kill you if you do, little Dragon." With that statement, Smaug turned and lumbered off, flapping his wings and disappearing from the treasure hoard. I sat back down and shed my coat and blazer, sighing in defeat. I was hopeless and defenseless, and wanted to get away…but I also wanted to know more. "I have a new case," I said to the empty air, "And it's myself."

ROSE

The candle flickered slowly, dimly lighting my chambers, as I sat in my bed, covered up and in my nightgown, hair down, a pen and diary in hand. I thought a moment, and began to write.

June 25th , TA 2941

Dear Diary, I've been here in Rivendell for two weeks now, it's nice and all, but I miss him. I'm beginning to think he's not coming. I'm beginning to think that the Doctor is not here and I'm stuck. I thought he'd never leave me…but I don't know anymore. I don't know. I'm alone. I feel alone. So alone.

Suddenly light knocking sounded on the door and it creaked open, "Rose?" said a voice. I jumped about a mile and gasped, slamming my diary shut and shoved it under my pillow. It was late, who on Middle Earth was up?

"Rose?" called the same voice. I realized who the voice belonged to.

"Estel! What on earth are you doing up, you silly boy?" I asked, "It's late."

"I know Rose, but I can't sleep. I'm scared."

"Oh, poor baby," I patted the bed and budged over a bit, "Why don't you come lay with me for a little bit?"

"Okay!" he ran over, and I smiled a chuckled in spite of myself, as I saw his messy, dark brown curls bouncing as he ran over and jumped in the bed beside me, snuggling into my side and I put my arm around him. "Now tell me what's wrong? What got the brave Estel scared?"

"I can't stop thinking about the orcs and goblins. When I close my eyes, terrible images of them attacking me and everyone that I love enter my mind, and they won't leave, even when I open them. And I'm scared because it's dark and I can't see, and I think that they're everywhere." He curled up against me, hugging me tighter.

"Oh Estel," I said, rubbing his head, "You know that Elrond will protect you, that Arwen will protect you, and I'll protect you, and every person here will…Glorfindel, Erestor, and Lindir too. And as long as you're in here, you're safe. When the people you love and trust the most are around, they will always protect you." I didn't try to hide the sadness in my voice, as I looked up at the sky window above my head. The Valar will too. Know that as long as we're here, you're safe."

"But I still feel doubt and fear in my heart." He said.

"It's because it's late and you're tired, little one, there's nothing to be afraid of." I said gently, kissing his head. There was silence.

"Can you tell me a story, Rose?"

"What kind?"

"Any."

"Okay then, have you heard the story about the Doctor?"

"You mean the man you drew?"

"Yes. Him."

"Is it good?"

"One of the best."

"Tell me."

"Okay. Here I go. Look up at the stars. Go on."

He looked up and I joined him, "What can you see?" I asked.

"Just a lot of stars and a dark blue sky."

"Okay, good, very good, but there's more than just that. Now I want you to close your eyes and imagine everything I'm about to tell you; across and beyond the stars there are worlds, many other worlds, with other forms of life living there. And each world has their own unique beauty, their own sky, sun, moon, and stars. Everything, all these worlds and stars, and moons and suns, and people, that's the Universe. The Universe is everything around you and I. It's huge, and everyone one is part of it.

"Even us?"

"Especially us. Now, the Doctor, he is very important."

"Who is he?"

"An amazing man…from a completely different part of our Universe. He is what they call a Time-Lord, and he's the last one. Sadly, the rest of his people were destroyed in a great war that no one won.

Anyway, he travels across the stars and soars through time; past, present, and future in his TARDIS. It's a big blue box that can fly, and a time machine. So he literally soars. His job is to protect the Universe and everything in it. Without him, we would not exist."

"That's a big job," said Estel, "But does he travel alone?"

"No. He almost always has someone by his side, usually a human, like you or me. Together they protect everyone and everything, and no matter what, they always win."

"What is he like?"

"He's simply amazing. He's very nice, and protects his companions (the people who travel with him) with his life, and he never leaves them. In turn they protect him as well. He's also brave, clever, and selfless."

"What does he look like?"

"Now that's tricky. You see, he can't really die, when he's dying his body will heal itself, and he'll get into a completely new body, new face, new life, new hair, new eyes, everything, and his personality alters as well."

"So he's like a completely new man?"

"Pretty much, but he still devotes his life to protecting the Universe. And he's not a man. He looks like one, but he isn't. He's an alien with two hearts."

"That's strange." Estel commented, "so he's a good man then?"

"Of course."

"Is he a good swordsman too?"

"He doesn't like violence, he uses something called a sonic screwdriver. It locks and unlocks doors, releases energy, and does several other things as well. He uses that and negotiation, as well as wit, strength and speed to get himself out of tricky situations and beat his enemies. A man who fights worth no violence, if you'd like."

"What do you think it's like to travel with him?"

"Oh it's simply amazing. He'll take you anywhere. It's dangerous, but it's always worth it. It's a priceless thing you can't ever get anywhere else."

"You speak as though you know him."

"I do. He's as real as you and I. In fact, I'm his companion."

"So everything you said is true?"

"Yes."

"Then where is he?"

"I—I don't know, we were separated. He'll be here soon though, I know he will, because I trust him with my life."

"When he comes can I meet him?" Estel's voice sounded tired, and his eyelids drooped.

"Of course you can."

He smiled a sleepy smile, "Goodnight Rose."

"Goodnight Estel." And we closed our eyes.

-xXx-

"Rose!" someone was shaking me awake. "Rose! Rose, wake up!" I recognized the voice.

"Estel, what is it?"

"Someone's stomping on the roof." He said fearfully.

"Estel, are you sure? I don't hear anything."

"Yes Rose. I know I heard it. Listen." So I listened, at first I heard nothing, I waited. After a few seconds: stomp, stomp, stomp.

"Did you hear it?" whispered Estel.

I nodded slowly. Stomp, stomp, stomp. I knew it wasn't elves; because their footsteps were light a gentle, while these were sluggish, heavy, and loud. I lit the candle beside the bed and lifted it from the side table, slowly getting out of bed. Estel followed me and I clasped his small hand in mine. Stomp, stomp, stomp. With the candle as our guide, we slowly walked closer to the roof and shined the candle up at the sky—window. Stomp, stomp, stomp. The noise was echoed inside. "Estel, stay behind me." I said. I pushed his small form behind me and he hugged my leg, staring with his eyes wide.

"What is it?" he squeaked.

"I don't know." I said, fear bubbling up inside me. For a few long, painful moments, the only sound we heard was our heavy breathing and the stomping. Then suddenly, the stomping stopped. I looked down at Estel and started to lower the candle, "There's nothing there." I said.

We waited a few more moments until we started to walk back toward the bed, only when there was a roar and something crashed through the glass and landed in front of us. We screamed.

Lit up by the candle light was a disgusting, demented creature, uglier than anything I'd seen before. It was brandishing a weapon. It saw us and started to advance. In an adrenaline rush, I shrieked and threw the candle. It hit the thing right smack in the face and it let out a roar of pain. While it was distracted, I scooped up Estel and ran, panicking. I screamed.

"It's an orc! " Estel cried, "It's coming to get me! Run Rose! He's following us!" the little lad was crying. I looked behind me, it was pursuing us closely indeed, brandishing its machete.

I turned back around and ran faster than I ever had through the halls, screaming for help.

"Now there's more!" Estel yelped. I looked over my shoulder again, there were five of them, and they were gaining on us. I picked up speed.

Then there was another cry, a male scream coming from one of the rooms. I turned and looked again as two more orcs appeared. I tried to gain more speed as I pivoted to the left and darted down another long hallway, only to find a long flight of stairs. I stopped.

"They're coming!" Estel shrieked. I ran up the stairs. I was tired and continued to lose stamina but I didn't stop.

Eventually we reached the top, and it opened up into a three way hall, with more rooms and doors. And the growls and banging feet and armor told me the orcs were still coming.

"Oh, which way?" I exclaimed.

"Right!" cried Estel. So I turned and ran down the right corridor, which turned and winded. There were several doors, so I decided to try opening some of them, they were all locked, so I continued to run, only to come face to face with a dead end, where two old long swords were crisscrossed on the wall. "Okay not helpful." I scanned around briefly before I ran back the way I came and started to bang on other doors.

"Help! Help!" Eventually one opened, an elvish male with blonde hair in a nightshirt stood at the door "What in the name of Valar is going on!?" He asked. I knew this to be Glorfindel.

"Orcs!" I exclaimed, "Coming up the stairs!"

"How many?"

"Just seven so far." I said.

He nodded, "But there's bound to be more. I will alert the lord Elrond immediately." He went into his room and came back with a long sword. "And cut down any orc in my path. Take Estel to Arwen, open the last door on the right, just up the stairs, her room will be the first door on the left, and m'lady, whatever you do, do not let anything happen to that boy."

With that, he started down the corridor. Almost instantly, the sounds of fighting erupted down the hallway. Nodding my head briefly, I darted down the hall, in a rush I fumbled with knob, trying to get it open, though it's hard when you're in a state of panic. That was when a hoarse, deep voice said, "Not so fast!" I froze and slowly turned my head back around, three orcs were slowly stalking toward me, laughing.

"A girl and a child, both such easy targets." said the one at the front. Taking some deep breaths I put Estel down and forced him behind me.

"Back off and leave him alone! You will not touch him!"

"What ya gonna do, lassie? Females have no fighting skills, or self —defense skills at that." snarled one of the others. I looked around, and my eyes caught the swords on the wall as the three orcs laughed and mocked.

"Are you gonna seduce us by shaking your breasts and doing a dance?" Mocked the biggest brute, receiving cold laughs from his buddies.

"You sick, sexist lout!" I growled. They continued to mock and laugh. With a glare, I put down Estel and said: "Estel, run, go find your sister, I'll take care of them."

"But there's three of them!" there were tears in his eyes, "They'll kill you, Rose!"

"Listen to me; I'm gonna be alright, okay, I just need you to be safe." I ruffled his hair, "Now run! Run!" I gave him a small shove and with one last look, he turned and ran up the stairs. I waited as he vanished up the stairs, where Arwen picked him up. I closed the door and ran and grabbed one of the swords, it clattered to the ground, initiating louder laughter from the orcs.

"What's the matter, girl, can't pick up a sword? Too weak?"

I ignored their taunts and lifted it off the ground, it was heavier than I thought, so I had to hold it with both hands. "You watch me, scum." I said. I raised it, letting out a battle cry and ran forward, ready to attack the orcs. I dodged the first one, darting away from them, a I wildly skillessly swung the huge old sword that was too big for me, cringing every time the metal clanged together, and trying to run away, as my clumsy blows seemed of no use, and the orcs were stronger and faster than me as well. The only thing I did was manage to slash a long gash in one of their arms and In the end it involved me running away and trying to escape.

I had almost gotten away, when I tripped on a rough spot in the carpet and fell backwards, some how keeping hold of the sword. The orcs laughed when they saw me approaching me slowly, causing me to back up, looking upon them with manic fear, and I soon found myself cornered with no means of escape. The biggest brute, the one who had made the lewd comment, raised his machete, despite the black blood dripping from the gash I had so generously given him, and started toward me. I tried to make myself as small possible, breathing hard and staring with fear.

"Time for you to die, wench." He stopped in front of me and raised his machete above his head, ready to plunge it downward into my chest. There was a scream and an explosion of blood, but it wasn't mine. The orc's heavy breath caught, choking in his throat, as he froze and blood poured from his stomach and stuck onto my hands, and waterfalled down his mouth, as the old sword stuck in his chest. His eyes rolled to the back of his head and he fell to the ground, bleeding out. I looked on in horror, I had just killed him. The other two orcs exchanged glances, then glared down at me. The taller orc (who was 5`10) stepped forward and dragged me to my feet. Then he grabbed a large handful of my hair, exposing my neck, and pressed a jagged blade against my neck. "You will pay for what you did." He growled. So he was going to kill me. I closed my eyes and sucked in my breath and waited. Waited to die. Then with the energy I had left I yelled, "DOCTOR! Doctor you abandoned me!" And I started to cry. To my surprise, the blade was removed. And the grip was loosened on my hair, and I was shoved roughly to the ground. I looked up with my tear-stained face. "You're not gonna kill me?"

"No." Said the one who had threatened me, "We're capturing you. Women are excellent for ransom." Then I received a blow to the back of my head, and I was knocked out.


	10. Chapter 8

~CHAPTER 8~

A/N: Hey peeps! So, I decided I prefer third person point of view so I am going back to that. Just lettin you lot know that. I hope you all enjoy this next chapter. and don't forget to leave a review!

JOHN

When he woke up, the first thing he felt was spacelessness. His arms were criscrossed in front of him, and his legs uncomfortably pressed together, with rough canvas material rubbing up against his cut skin, stinging. He was also very hot, and sandwitched in between two other bodies, who smelled like body odor, and the outside world. A brief can told him in between Kili and the ginger dwarf...what was his name again, ahh, yes, Gloin. Furthermore he realized what was going on. "Sacs. It had to be potato sacs the trolls stuck us in." He was tied up in a sac, in a pile of complaining, smelly, protesting dwarves. Not all of them though, as some were tied to a spit over the fire, being rotissereed. John grimaced at this, for he knew he was to be next. What was even more discomforting was the conversation the trolls were having. Apparently, there was no cookbook on how to make dwarf in Middle Earth. Or humans for that matter, because the trolls were discussing how to prepare the dwarves.

"Don't bother cooking them, let's just sit on them and squash them into jelly." the smallest troll was saying.

"They should be sauteed and grilled with a sprinkle of sage." the cook said.

"Is this really necessary!?" yelped Dori from the spit.

"Ooo, that does sound quite nice." replied the small troll again.

"Untie us, you monsters!" Oin demanded.

"Take on someone your own size!" raged Gloin.

Everyone now was squirming and protesting, yelling insults and curses, in John's ears, not to mention worsening his damned headache. "How about you all shut up." John muttered to himself, huffing.

"Never mind the seasoning! We haven't got all night, let's get a move on! I don't fancy being turned to stone!" growled the largest troll. That gave John an idea, but the hobbit beat him to it.

"Wait, wait!" Bilbo exclaimed, "You are making a terrible mistake!"

"You what?" asked the biggest lout, dumbly.

"I mean't with the uh-seasoning, yes, the seasoning."

"What about the seasoning?" asked the cook, Bert.

"Well have you smelt them? You're gonna need something stronger than sage before plate this lot up." John smirked. Definitely something he would have said. At once, the dwarves arose in a complaining fiasco (again).

"What do you know about cooking dwarf?" asked Tom.

"Shut up and let the flurgaburburra hobbit talk." Bert replied.

"Uh, well, th-the secret to cooking dwarf is umm..."

"Yes? Yes?" said the troll, getting excited.

"Yes, i'm telling you, the secret to cooking dwarf to skin them first!" Bilbo exclaimed. At once, everyone protested again.

"I'll skin you, ya little-" Gloin began.

"I won't forget that!" growled Dwalin from the spit.

John rolled his eyes, he was surrounded by idiots, (great, now he sounded like Sherlock). Suddenly, in the midst of all the chaos, something caught at the corner of John's eye. He turned his head as the face of the Doctor appeared from a nearby bush, grinning, with a finger to his lips. "I'm gonna save you." he mouthed, then he darted behind a large pile of boulders directly behind the trolls.

"No good roasting 'em now, it'd take all night." that voice sounded like William troll, but with a faint sound of the Doctor. John smiled. Who knew the Doctor could do impressions. Apparently the trolls thought the voice belonged to each other.

"Don't start that argument again, Will." Bert said.

"Who's arguin?" asked William.

"You are." said Bert.

"Am not, you liar!" And thus another argument began again. They argued until they established that they were going to mince and boil the dwarves. So they got a new cauldron, and took out their knives.

"No good boiling 'em. And we ain't got no water, and it's a long way to the well and all." said a voice that to John still sounded like one of the trolls. Apparently William and Bert thought it was Tom.

"Shut up!" they exclaimed, "or we'll never get this done. And you can fetch the water yourself if ye' say anymore!"

"Shut up yerself!" Tom blustered back, apparently thinking the voice belonged to William.

Then they started exchanging insults, and the argument began again. Looking, John saw the tiny pink rays of dawn appearing low in the sky. Soon the trolls would be stone. Eventually, William exclaimed,

"You know what, forget this, I'm eatin' one raw." He picked up fat Bombur, and started to lower him into his mouth, the poor dwarf wriggling and crying out in fear.

"n-no, not that one! He's infected!" Bilbo explained.

"You what?" questioned William.

"He's got worms in his…tubes."

In disgust, William threw Bombur back into the pile, he landed right in the middle and crushed everyone underneath him. They grimaced.

"In fact they all have, they're infested with parisites, it's a terrible risk I wouldn't take it."

"Parasites?" Gloin echoed, "did he say—"

"We don't have parasites, you have parasites!" Kili exclaimed_. Oh, very mature Kili, because such a mighty warrior would totally say that._ John thought as the dwarves started to protest. John also rolled his eyes upon the stupidity of the dwarves. That was when Thorin, who understood the clever hobbit's plan, roughly nudged his nephew, and Kili fell silent. So did everyone else; and then:

"I've got parasites as big as me arm!"

"Mine are the biggest parasites, I've got huge parasites!"

"We're riddled!"

"Yes, I'm riddled!"

"Well what would you have us do then?" asked Tom, "Let them all go?"

"Well—"

The big troll approached him and started poking him roughly.

"You think I don't know what you're up to? This lit'le ferret! He's taking us for fools!"

"Ferret?" Bilbo's voice jumped an octave, and John blushed upon hearing his own voice squeak like that.

"Fools?" echoed one of the trolls. Then John saw a flash of grey, and then brown behind the rock.

"THE DAWN WILL TAKE YOU ALL!" Gandalf's voice exclaimed. Then there was a loud buzzing and commotion from behind it, and the whole huge boulder began to glow with blue voltage, and it burst into a million pieces. Bright sunlight poured into the clearing. The trolls screamed with pain as they went still and turned to solid stone. Everyone cheered.

"Excellent!" Gandalf exclaimed as he and the Doctor appeared from behind the wreckage of the rocks. He tapped the arm of one of the stone trolls as they strutted into the clearing, drawing forth a smile from everyone, despite their annoyances, as they began to untie them. When they were done Gandalf said,

"I expect that there is a cave nearby. Let us see if we can find it, to see what riches we may find. Just follow your nose and you'll find it." So off they went.

-xXx-

The Doctor

He sat alone on a rock, with no desire to go down into the foul-smelling hoard. He was just tossing his sonic screwdriver in the air, watching it spin, then catching it, tossing it, watching it spin, catching it. Some of the dwarves had stayed out, standing guard, not talking much. Bilbo had also remained out, and so had John. It was John and Bilbo who had approached him.

"Was that you?" asked Bilbo.

"Hmm?" the Doctor caught his screwdriver and made eye-contact with the curly-haired Hobbit.

"Did you keep the trolls arguing?"

"Yes."

"Thank you." The Doctor gave him a small smile. Then the hobbit nodded briefly and went and sat on another rock, on the opposite side of the entrance, as for John though, he sat down right next to him.

"You okay?" John asked.

"What, oh, yes, fine." He gave a fake reassuring smile then looked away.

"No you're not. I can see it in your eyes; you look sad."

The Doctor continued to look away, until he turned and said, "You're a soldier."

"I was an army doctor. I'm not anymore. Now I'm just a doctor, a real one. I work at a hospital, and solve crimes with Sherlock."

"Then why do you have a gun?"

"Solving crimes is a dangerous job. I carry a gun in case I need to protect Sherlock and I."

"Have you ever had to use it after the war?"

"Once. I shot a serial killer who was threatening Sherlock. He would have killed him if I hadn't. Sometimes you have to sacrifice to protect the people you love."

"I know. I've been around for nine hundred and three years." Said the Doctor, "I've had more losses and hurt than you can ever fathom. I've sacrificed so much…so many people have died in my name." There was a bit of bite to his tone, "I have experienced more destruction than you could ever know. I've had to make more tough decisions than anyone else. I have secrets no one could ever know or understand. I can see everything; all that was, is, and could ever be. It drives me mad. So yes, I know that."

John was slightly taken aback.

"I'm sorry." The Doctor said quietly, "I didn't mean to be so rude. It's just a touchy subject."

"I know." John said, "It hurts, doesn't it? Seeing all those people die before your eyes. Seeing all the destruction…so many lives just gone." As John continued on, the Doctor found himself having a harder and harder time keeping himself together. All his horrible memories came back to him, clearer than ever…all the people who died in his name, all the planets and places destroyed, and Gallifrey…Gallifrey burning…because of him. All those children…those families…his family…his children. The 3.7 billion…

"That's the harsh reality of being a soldier." John said.

That snapped Ten back to reality, he abruptly turned on John, "I am NOT a soldier." He emphasized the "not" with a very harsh, biting tone, and then he got up and stormed away into the trees as tears began to trickle down his cheeks.

_**A/N: I had to do Doctor angst with the "Man who regrets", because I am obsessed with angst, and have been spending a lot of time analyzing the Doctor's character, (he's perfect angst material.) Happy early Halloween! I do hope you people liked this chapter. I apologize for the lack of updates. I've been busy. don't forget to write a review, and have a fantastic Halloween (be safe). And for those who don't celebrate it, have a fantastic day. If you all review, I might update tommorow or later this evening. **_


	11. Chapter 9

**~CHAPTER 9~**

**A/N: This chapter contains torture and mistreatment of Rose. If it disturbs you, please skip toward the middle/bottom portion of it and read from there.**

ROSE

When she woke up, she felt like her head had been hit with a baseball bat. It was pounding, and she could almost hear a pulse. One of her temples stung, and something warm leaked down the side of her face, turning her eyes, she saw red. Lovely, there was a bloody gash on her head.

Her wrists and ankles also burned, and so did her middle.

Looking with her slightly blurry vision, she discovered her wrists were tied onto the body of some kind of creature, and her ankles, as well as her middle. She was completely tied up, rather uncomfortably. Her face and body were pressed into wiry brown stinking fur. She discovered she was half sitting, half lying, hunched over against the huge head and shoulder blades of a huge, wolf-like creature. The wolf creature was moving fast, and she felt like she would fall. Looking around, she saw about half a dozen of the wolf creatures, which looked like ugly, demented werewolves. On top of them were dark shapes, sitting tall on their wolf creatures, decked out in armour and weapons. One turned to look at her, it was ugly and demented, looking as if it was supposed to be human. At once, all the memories hit her; she had been protecting little Estel, and running from an orc pack. She remembered a trio of them, a massive brute and his two buddies. They had been mocking her and insulting her. The brute had threatened her, so she had killed him. As a punishment, the other two orcs had decided they were going to imprison her, and she was knocked in the head with a club, then she had woken up here, and wished she hadn't.

"Where are we going?" She asked.

"So the she-human stirs." Rose painfully recognized the voice, the voice of one of the orcs who had tried to kill her after she herself had killed his monster of a buddy.

"We are hunting dwarf filth by the name of Thorin Oakenshield and his company of scum. You are our prisoner. Once we have Oakenshield's head, I am taking you back to our leader and I am going to let him deal with you. You killed his second in command, you'll be lucky if you survive the anger of Azog the Defiler. In the meantime, we are also going to make sure you learn your lesson. "

Rose felt terrified. And again she wished for the Doctor to come save her. She had merely killed the massive orc in self-defense. She closed her eyes and laid her head back down against the beast she was lying on, letting salty tears fall from her face. The worst came, however, when the orcs stopped for a rest.

-xXx-

The orc pack had stopped to eat a bloody, raw, disgusting carcass when Rose blinked open her eyes again. Her entire body felt tired, and her migraine was worse than before. She was still painfully tied to the wolf, and out underneath the setting sun.

Her stomach rumbled, but she had no appetite for raw deer, especially with the way the orcs were tearing apart the meat with their sharp teeth, getting blood all over their hands and face, eating it in the most sloppy, disgusting way possible. She turned her head away and forced the bile back down into her throat as the pack ripped apart the carcass. She hoped that if she pretended to sleep the orcs would take no notice of her, and she'd be able to avoid them somewhat. But that was not to be. Soon, after the carcass was completely demolished, the big orc who had been threatening her earlier approached her. He drew out a jagged dagger, and cut her bonds, paying no mind to her soft, fragile skin, scraping up her hands as he cut her free. They stung. She pulled herself up to a normal sitting position

"Are you lettin' me go?" asked Rose, thinking that the awful creatures had a tiny spark of decency .

The orc laughed loudly in a nasally, horrible tone, followed by more laughter of the other patrol. Looking around, Rose realized that the rest of the patrol had gathered in a tight circle around her. It was then from atop the warg, Rose realized she was surrounded the entire patrol. They were glaring at her with their small, unfriendly eyes on their deformed faces.

"What are you gonna do to me?" Rose said in almost an inaudible tone. The orc just laughed again.

"We're gonna teach you a lesson." He nodded briefly to two brutes. They approached her from either side. She worriedly flashed her gaze around, her expression pulled in complete fear. They seized her roughly by the arms, hurting her. She let out small cries of pain, but they only gripped harder, dragging her off the back of the warg, holding her completely by her arms. They swung her back and forth and then threw her on the ground. She landed roughly; it wasn't enough to knock the wind out of her, but enough to cause horrible pain. She cried in pain again. She tried to pull herself back up, but was kicked over by a rough boot connecting with her side, causing her to crumple to the ground. She tried to scramble up again, only to be kicked over, this time harder, from her other side. Now both sides hurt extremely bad. And the kicking continued. Each time she was kicked back to the ground, each time causing even harsher pain. It wasn't long before every inch of her body hurt and she found herself crying. But that didn't stop the orcs. It put her in more misery. After one orc had given her their share of kicks, another one took over. After about thirty or more kicks, the orcs reverted to punching her. She just curled up in a ball and cried until she started to see stars. She was bawling, and screaming for the Doctor, but he never came, and the beating went on. Finally though, she had had enough.

"STOP! STOP! PLEASE STOP!" she cried through her tears. And they stopped.

"C'mon boys, that's enough, leave her in pain for few minutes." Said the leader. The orcs laughed as they turned and left, leaving her lying cut up and bruised in the dust.

Her entire body ached, and she was covered in nasty cuts and bruises. No inch of her was left without some form of an injury, whether it be a cut or an ugly bruise. She was covered in dust, and her beautiful white dress had been dyed ivory and grey with the dirt, not to mention with some red here and there from her blood. Lines from tears could be seen clearly as they fell down her dirty face. Her breathing was ragged, but she was glad it was over, yet little did she know it could only get worse in the next few days to come.

-xXx-

So the next three days went like this: every time the patrol stopped, she would get beaten until she was nearly unconscious, then they would leave her therein misery, and then when it was time to go, they would tie her up on the warg again, and set off. With every beating came the perpetuous, loud screaming for a single name "DOCTOR!" But he never came. He was never there and he never heard her. She lost faith in him.

-xXx-

About three days in came the worst torture yet. One night the patrol stopped, Rose thought for sure she was going to die.

At first it was a really bad beating…the worst one yet. It escalated from there. They didn't give her a break this time. Bloody and battered, she was grabbed by the arms and the orcs tied her to a rock by rough bonds that dug into her skin.

A large hand held her down by the back of the neck, and with his other one yanked her hair, she heard a slash as a red hot dagger slashed through her hair, and turning her gaze, she found a pile of her blonde hair on the ground. Now it just brushed the nape of her neck in a jagged line. Then she felt a scalding heat underneath her hair and heard the sizzling of her flesh, and she screamed as the orcs branded her with the tip of the dagger. When they drew the dagger away, it didn't hurt any less. Then she heard another slash as a machete cut through the ties on the back of her dress, and it was ripped open followed by a rush of cold air, exposing her back.

CRACK! The sound of a whip cut through the night and struck her back with a burning, stinging pain, as the sharp, tiny stones and bones cut into her tender skin. Rose winced. The cracking continued as she was struck repeatedly in a crisscross motion, each strike becoming more painful. Tears fell down her eyes in endless pools, but crying didn't stop them. Blood dripped into her eyes. Her head was spinning, and she felt sick, stars dancing in her vision. She heard the rip of fabric on either side of her as two more orcs ripped off her sleeves, than started drawing their daggers across her skin, making small cuts in her arms. Those stung, but not as bad as her back. Blood stank up the clearing, and littered the ground; Rose's bawling and screaming filling the silent air. Finally, the pain was too much. She gave in to her body's screams. She fell unconscious just as an unrecognizable voice cut through clear as day.

"STOP!"

-xXx-

When she blinked her eyes open, she felt a rough canvas cot against her damaged skin, covered with a thin canvas sheet. Looking around, she found that she was in a tent, lit dimly by candles that smelled of herbs. She felt clean, but tired and still in pain, she was wrapped in tight, rough linen bandages around her entire torso and down her arms. She felt a sudden cold on the back of her neck, her hair had been cut. A few stray tears fell as she sat up and looked around the tent. Someone was moving around in the shadows.

"Hello?" The figure turned. It was an orc. At once she tried to get away.

"No, no!" the orc squeaked, "don't run! Torag do not hurt you!" She stopped. The orc limped over to her. He was smaller than the other ones, with greyish tan skin. He had pointed ears and a slightly scrunched face. He wasn't as ugly as the others. His hair was gathered in a high black ponytail on his head. He didn't look like a warrior, and he didn't look mean. His eyes were warm and friendly, not cold like the others. By far the nicest looking orc she had seen. He wore trousers, boots, and a cape of fur. His chest was bare, with a long scar across it.

"Did you patch me up?"

He nodded. "Torag help. Torag always help. Tried best he could. Will be lots of scars." Rose nodded in understanding and moved a bit.

"Do not move too much. Stiches will break." He said, putting a warm hand on her shoulder, "oh, Torag also fixed up yellow hair." He handed Rose a mirror and she looked at it, her hair was quite short, a little bit more than halfway down her neck. It was shorter than she liked, but it looked alright.

"Thank you for helping me." Rose said.

"Yes." Torag said, "Torag realize how nasty orcs are, Torag rescue you from others. Torag help you escape. He take you back to elf land."

"oh, thank you Torag!" Rose hugged him and winced as she felt pain.

"Careful." Torag warned. "Here." He handed her a cup.

"Drink. Will help pain and tiredness." She drank the liquid, which tasted sharp like herbs and cinnamon, but a bit like tea all the same. Within minutes she felt much better.

"We must leave now." He said, "While orcs sleeping." He handed her a short fur tunic and a pair of trousers. "Put these on. Will keep you warm." He turned away as she put on the clothes with some struggle. They smelled old and stale, but they felt warm and comfortable. Torag gathered some things and put them into a small rucksack.

"Herbs for road. Long and dangerous." Torag explained. Rose nodded. "We go now. Come." He started out into the night. When she stepped into the dark night, the cold air felt get on her sore, swolllen skin. She was very tired and definitely a good deal weaker than she had been, but her fatigue was somewhat lessened after the medicine Torag had given her. The worst part was when they had to sneak past the sleeping patrol. One orc was on guard, a large one at that, asleep, so they thought, though Torag made sure of it. He produced a rag with some strong smelling liquid. "Will knock him out." he slowly approached the big orc from behind and slapped the handkerchief over the nose. the orc fell over unconcious with not so much as a noise other than a soft thump.

"Hurry." Torag spoke, in his thick orcish accent. He took her gently by the wrist, his hand was warm, and comforting, Rose thought.

-xXx-

They traveled with haste all night long, stopping ever so often to rest and redress Rose's wounds, and by the time the sun peaked it's first rays over the horizon, Rose thought she would topple over. Sensing this, Torag limped to a hiding place he found, which was a bit tight, about some thick bushes, but still alright, even thought they had to sit practically shoulder-to-shoulder. Rose was grateful to give her aching feet a rest.

"Time to redress Rose's wounds." he said, getting his things out of his satchel. She nodded, taking off her shirt and vest, revealing the bloody linen bandages underneath. He unwrapped them, from behind her, paying no notice or mind to her feminine qualities as he set to his work. He cleaned all the whiplashes first, then put cream on her burn on the back of her neck, and finally, dabbed at her cuts, reapplying some of the stiches, if need be.

"There." said Torag, "They look better every new day."

Rose smiled at him, and he offered a toothy smile back. As she put on her tunic and vest, she reflected on her and Torag's night long jounrey, and decided that really did love him. He was so much more human and less animal than the other orcs. He gave her another cup of the same medicine, and then offered her his canteen.

"Drink water." he said, "Rose need it more than Torag."

"There isn't much left." she said.

"Is okay." Torag shrugged, "I don't need it."

"Thanks." Rose smiled, opening the canteen and gulping down the water.

"We stay here until full daylight." he said, "Sit back and rest. Sleep if you want." Sleep sounded good. She thought maybe she could catch a few winks, only the first rays of dawn were visible anyway, and she was really tired. So, using a smooth flat rock and Torag's cloak as a pillow, she managed to sleep a bit.

-xXx-

Someone was nudging her. "Rose, Rose, wake up, wake up." she blinked.

"Wha-"

"We must go, I smell them, they about one league behind us. They move fast. They will catch up if we do not go." She quickly gathered up the things and Torag hoisted the pack onto his back, then he helped her off the ground.

"Make haste." he said. Staying sheltered by the trees, they moved as steathily as possible as a howling was heard in the distance. The chase was about to begin.

THE DOCTOR

Ahhhhhwooooooooo!

Wolves. The company was gathered in a bunch, and the only person not brandishing a weapon was the Doctor. Although Gandalf had given him a short sword, the Doctor refused to use the potentially lethal weapon, so instead he was brandishing his decidedly not very threatening sonic screwdriver, after a surprise run in with Gandalf's cousin Radagast, which had scared the pants off the company. The odd wizard, he thought, oddly remined him of one of his past selves. They had been talking off to the side, emersed in conversation, when the howl had sounded.

"Is that a wolf?" Bilbo asked worridely, "Are there wolves out there?"

Bofur shook his head; "No that is not a wolf."

"Look out!" shouted a voice. There was a scream as a huge creature that looked like an uglier version of a wolf jumped out and attacked the company. Three gun shots went off, and with a whine, the huge beast fell down dead, and John wriggled out from underneath it, dirty, and a little scratched, but otherwise unharmed.

"Warg scouts!" Thorin announced, venom in his voice.

Gandalf was outraged, and rounded on Thorin. "who did you tell about your quest beyond your kin?"

"no one!" Thorin replied.

"Who did you tell?" Gandalf repeated.

"No one, I swear."

"You're being hunted. Run!"

"We can't! We have no ponies!" fretted the young brown-haired dwarf called Ori, "they bolted."

"I'll draw them off!" spoke the brown his voice was similar.

"These are Gundabad wargs," replied Gandalf, "they will outrun you."

"These are Rhosgebel rabbits, i'd like to see them try." Radagast climbed onto his sleigh and headed off in one direction.

"Run." Gandalf ordered the company, "Run, you fools!" So the company took off, crashing through the trees.


End file.
